A Serendipitous Scandal
by 1000GreenSun
Summary: Lady Blossom of Cambridge is victim to vicious gossip linking her with the rakish Duke Brick of York. A secret spy for the English crown, Blossom is not the average noblewoman and marriage to the duke only complicates her life further. Mired in a traitorous plot, the duke and new duchess are forced to confront some terrible villains, but even scarier...? Their love for each other.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to its respective owners. Not me. Just in case you didn't know.

**Author's Note:** Hello, there!

I recently finished Two Lives and in light of my current addiction to historical romances, I thought I'd whip up something with Brick and Blossom! I was little disheartened to see only three reviews on my last update... I didn't think it was that bad.

Anyways, I'm not really sure where I want to go with this or even if I want to continue it since I'm so ridiculously busy. But I hope you enjoy the beginning and there might just be more!

This is a historical romance set in regency England. I'm too lazy to research facts and all that, so sorry if I'm completely misinformed about the historical background. I'm really just going off of the historical romances I've read in the past.

Anyhoo, enjoy!

...

The resplendent redhead pushed back a stray lock of copper hair absentmindedly as she knit her eyebrows in concentration. Her nimble fingers darted back and forth as she skillfully pressed her needle into the piece of cloth before her. Embroidery was one of her more socially acceptable hobbies and it always seemed to have a calming effect on the noblewoman.

Blossom let her thought drift to the man she would soon marry. While nothing was official yet, the kind and intelligent Archduke Dexter had always held her in high regard, never missing out on the chance to complement her or ask her hand for a dance. He paid a partisan attention to her and all of England was well aware who the next Archduchess of Cornwall would be. While not cold and calculating like many of her noble counterparts, Blossom knew that a formal proposal would happen soon and her heart soared with excitement. Many chased after titles and wealth, and while Dexter had both, Blossom was only interested with his considerate heart and expanse of knowledge that he was surely eager to share. In a day and age when money and connections determined marriages, Blossom was elated to be a part of a love match.

Perhaps it was premature to call what they shared 'love', but she cared for Dexter and those feelings would surely blossom into the real thing once they were married.

The beautiful redhead couldn't contain a smile and lowered her long lashes, focusing her unusually coral eyes on the silk cloth she was embroidering. At twenty-one, Blossom was an intelligent, quick-witted woman with a heart of gold and as the oldest daughter of John Utonium, Duke of Cambridge, she had a bright future ahead of her. It was absolutely delightful!

Her fluttering thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt as her two younger sisters came dashing into the drawing room. Blossom looked up at them curiously, but seeing their distraught and angry faces, her heart fell. Her eyebrows crinkled as she examined them, trying to discern what had happened.

"Girls, are you alright?" the redhead asked her brunette and blonde sisters gently.

"Blossom, are _you_ alright?" the youngest sister, effulgent blonde Bubbles, asked in an uncharacteristically serious tone.

"We just heard the rumor," the brunette, Buttercup, glowered as she rubbed her fist. Always opting to horseback ride or fence instead of sewing and sitting around daintily, the middle sister was a spitfire that looked especially inflamed at the moment. "Blossom, I swear when I find out who started that nasty piece of gossip..." she growled dangerously.

The redhead was utterly confused. She was completely unaware of what her sisters were talking about, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was something bad. "Bubbles, Buttercup, I haven't heard... What is it?"

Both sisters paled and turned towards each other.

"Blossom... Y-You haven't heard?" the blue-eyed sister asked meekly. The redhead solemnly shook her head.

The green-eyed sister sighed, "T-There's this rumor going around... It started late last night, but it's no doubt spread to all of the ton by now. Everyone thinks you were-" the brunette swallowed, "Compromised by the Duke of York in Lord Lumpkin's library at his ball last night."

In absolute shock, Blossom shot up, her eyes wider than dish plates. She blinked, trying her best not to the believe it. Surely her sisters were mistaken! But the grave looks on their pretty faces confirmed Blossom's worst fears. All of England now believed her to be loose, an unmarried woman susceptible to the charms of a devilish duke.

But her eyebrows furrowed. She didn't even know the Duke of York. Sure, tales of his legendary charm had spread across the ton, but other than that and rumors of his financial ruin, she knew nothing about the man. She had never met him, let alone done some ineffable deed with him! Who could be cruel enough to propagate such a vicious rumor?

Her heart lurched at the one thing she did know. Her reputation -the only real thing a noblewoman had- had been irrevocably destroyed. And with her name blemished with such a scandal, her high hopes for the future had been dashed. She would have no choice but to say goodbye to Dexter, goodbye to love and goodbye to happiness.

...

"You devil!"

The handsome redhead deep in concentration was bent over his desk, carefully studying some numbers. He scowled at the interruption and looked up. His features softened when he saw who had entered his study, but remnants of the scowl remained as his two younger brothers sauntered into the room.

"Butch, Boomer. What in hell do you two need now?" the redhead asked asked as his characteristically red eyes flickered .

"Brick, we just wanted to congratulate you on your newest conquest," the brunet, Butch grinned licentiously.

"You really shouldn't have tarnished that poor girl's reputation," the blond, Boomer, chided solemnly. "She may never get a marriage offer now, Brick. I hope you enjoyed it," he shook his head disapprovingly.

Brick just looked at his brothers quizzically. "What in hell are you two talking about?"

"Surely you didn't forget the beauty from just last night?" the green-eyed brother chuckled. "And in a library, no less!"

The blue-eyed brother frowned at his brother's ribald statement and turned his attention to his eldest brother, "You haven't heard the rumors?"

"What rumors?" Brick growled, suddenly angry. From what he had collected from the two's abtruse statements, he didn't like what he was piecing together.

"The Duke of York and Lady Blossom of Cambridge were found in Lumpkin's library at the ball last night," Butch declared histrionically.

"Lady Blossom of Cambridge...?" Brick racked his brain for a recollection of the name, but little appeared.

The only thing he could think of was John Utonium, the Duke of Cambridge, 's eldest daughter. He had never met her in person, but the wealth she held was widely known throughout the ton. Wealth that York desperately needed, the thought suddenly popped into his mind. But the redhead was still confused. If they didn't know each other, why would someone go through the trouble of constructing and spreading a rumor that linked them and put them in a precarious situation? Brick would easily rebound from the scandal, but the lasting effect it would have on the lady greatly differed. From what he knew about her, she was amicable enough; but this vicious gossip proved that she had a formidable enemy lurking in the midst.

"I've never met her," he finally stated.

Boomer's frown deepened, "Then does everyone think you compromised her?" he asked pointedly.

Brick scowled at his youngest brother. While the redhead was capable of horrendous things, and guilty of actually doing many, destroying a young chit's reputation was something he had no interest in doing. He had never compromised a young virgin and he never would; it was something simply too dishonorable for him.

Butch chuckled, "I always knew you were smart, but this was genius," he shook his head delightedly.

"What are you suggesting?" Brick growled. "That I started this? I don't even know her!"

"But everyone knows how rich she is. And you know how much we could use that wealth," Butch whispered emphatically. "Destroying her and forcing her to marry you would only help us infinitely."

Brick's red eyes widened. That thought hadn't even crossed the normally perspicacious duke's mind. "While you make a good point, we don't need to sink _that_ low just yet to procure funds."

"You didn't start the gossip, then?" the sensitive blond almost let out a sigh of relief.

Brick shook his head in assent.

"Well, Butch is right... And not just about the money," Boomer said hesitantly. "Now that the lie's out, no respectable man will want her hand in marriage... Maybe it would be best if you were to take advantage of the situation and do the gentlemanly thing?" he suggested timidly.

"The gentlemanly thing?" Brick scoffed. "You mean marry her?" he smirked.

"Yes," Boomer replied resolutely. Brick narrowed his eyes menacingly.

"Don't be so quick to write him off, Brick," the brunet stepped in. "I know how averse you are to marriage and even though you've never seen Lady Blossom, surely her wealth will compensate for it all."

The redhead nodded meaningfully, soaking in his brothers' words. In light of this new scandal, perhaps they were right. Lady Cambridge may not get a fulfilling marriage, but at least Brick would give her a title, a manor to run and children should she desire them. And in return, Brick would get more than enough wealth to restore York to its former glory.

"Perhaps a marriage would be best for the two of us," Brick murmured as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. Preparing himself for the worst, he inhaled a deep breath, took out a crisp clean sheet of paper and began to pen a letter to the Lady Cambridge.

...

Blossom wrapped her scarlet cloak around her tightly, softly sighing. As she snuck out of her quarters and stepped down the rear staircase and out of the manor, she couldn't help but wonder why she was even being surreptitious. After she learned of a nasty rumor concerning her and the Duke of York earlier this morning, she doubted that the genteel finding out about her nightly visits to town could tarnish her reputation even more.

She had been sneaking around London for more than three years now, collecting information for the English crown. With French spies lurking around every corner and French intelligence hidden in the pockets of the city, national safety was an important concern for Blossom and hardly a docile noblewoman, she took it upon herself to aid her country in every way possible.

Overhearing a conversation her father had with a member of the British foreign agency a few years back, the clever redhead had been dying for adventure and a respite from her suffocatingly boring life. She began by making regular visits to questionable taverns, but throughout the years, she had established solid connections with some very important informants in town. She never showed her face in the seedy establishments she visited at night for propriety, but she was happy that the information she uncovered went to save English lives.

Eager to discover something exciting to forget the dreadful events of the day that had ranged from discovering the execrable rumor to disconsolately thinking about her future options and disparately settling on buying a marriage, Blossom quietly stepped into the raucous tavern and slipped into her regular booth, obscurely in the corner. It was the perfect seat, allowing her full access to the happenings of the establishment while providing her with a layer of darkness that kept her from prying eyes.

"Who in hell_ are_ you?" a baritone voice asked in a dangerous whisper.

Blossom's neck whipped over to the deep voice and her pink eyes widened underneath the hood of her cloak when she saw a man sitting across the table. How had she missed seeing him when she sat down?

She narrowed her eyes and set her chin down firmly as she studied the man in front of her.

He had long, shaggy red hair and hard eyes that almost looked red; the rest of his face was strong, angular and undeniably breathtakingly handsome. He had broad shoulders and was clearly quite muscular, as the thin linen shirt he wore betrayed. And while his sleeves were only rolled up to his elbows, the sinewy contours of his Herculean arms glistened in the moonlight. While he was clearly dressed as a peasant, something about him commanded respect. He looked almost noble.

She swallowed. There was no way she could escape his clutches. Her mind reeled at what he could do to her. And to her absolute shock, not all of them terrified her; some of the possibilities sent a distinct tingle down her spine.

Taking a final look at the man, she realized he looked familiar. She had seen him almost every night she had visited this particular tavern and chances are, he had probably noticed her. It would be a little farfetched to think he knew she was a secret British spy.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she finally replied, her voice light and airy. She couldn't suppress a smile at seeing his reaction to her reply. He must've just realized that she was a woman.

"It's hardly proper for a woman to visit such establishments in the dead of night," he said wryly, changing his approach. From the way his gaze shifted as he looked her up and down, she could tell he didn't find her respectable in the least.

"Hardly," she concurred. "But don't get your hopes up, sir. I'm not the type of woman you think me to be," she narrowed her eyes.

"And what kind of woman would that be?" he baited her.

"Enough about me, sir," Blossom replied resolutely. She wasn't about to hand out information about herself and decided her time would be well-spent investigating the mysterious and perspicacious man. Perhaps he had a few secrets of his own. How delightful it would be to uncover them! "Pray tell, sir, what might you be doing here?" she asked, noting how incongruous his presence in the shady tavern seemed.

"Neglecting my duties," he shrugged casually. "I always welcome a respite. Tell me wench, why do you hide your face?" the redhead asked curiously, leaning forward. "I doubt you're as hideously ugly as you think yourself to be."

Blossom almost gasped in indignation. How dare he question her beauty! She narrowed her pink eyes in response, but wasn't foolish enough to relieve herself of her hood. All of Cambridge would be able to identify her as the duke's eldest daughter and while she had no reputation to protect any longer, she wouldn't jeopardize those of her sisters by letting the entire town know where she spent her evenings.

"Oh, I'm not, sir," the pink-eyed noblewoman replied pointedly. "But you're foolish if you believe I'll grace you a glance at my beauty," she didn't bother hiding the haughtiness in her voice.

"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're not the poor wench you pretend to be," the man mused. He looked at her expectantly with a raised eyebrow. "You're not, are you?" he smirked.

Blossom's eyes widened. Surely he hadn't picked up on her nobility! Perhaps she should've stayed more humble. "I don't understand what you're insinuating, sir," the redhead abandoned her arrogance and replied demurely, letting her lashes fall downward.

"Milady, you've just confirmed my beliefs," the man chuckled. He had first noticed her fine cloak no peasant could ever wear, but soon her delicate voice and impeccable manners and justifiable conceit had confirmed his suspicions.

"I don't have to endure you any longer," she snapped. Narrowing her pink eyes once again, she let out a 'humph' before gathering her skirts and stepping out of the booth. She wouldn't let an uncouth stranger get under her skin like that. She had other places to be.

"Don't think you're getting away, milady," he laughed darkly as he took a single step in front of her and clutched her arm, pulling her towards his expansive torso. "Answer my question. Why does a noblewoman like yourself visit this tavern so frequently?" he asked menacingly.

Blossom stifled a cry at being pressed up against such a stalwart man. She had never been in such close proximity with such a well-built man before and it was hard to keep her thoughts straight.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she feigned ignorance.

"But you do," he said dangerously as he used his free hand to push back the hood of her cloak. As her copper waves spilled out and her milky complexion mixed with the moonlight, it was evident she had been lying. "So you _are _beautiful," he murmured complacently as his eyes raked over her stunning pink eyes and full, beckoning lips.

Blossom let out a strangled cry as she tried to fight the blush crawling up her neck. She had received that compliment countless times, but never had it made her feel like this. Not even Dexter's chaste touch rivaled that of the handsome stranger's.

The smug glint in his red eyes soon turned into thinly-veiled hunger and before he knew it, his lips were on hers. Blossom had surprised herself by responding to his lurid touch instead of pulling away like she knew she was supposed to.

Here she was, Lady Cambridge, in a steamy liplock with a virile stranger in the middle of a village tavern. How much more scandalous could she get?

Her senses soon, albeit reluctantly, returned and taking advantage of his momentary stupor, she moved out of his grasp, pulled on her hood and dashed out of the tavern without a single glance back.

She had to get out of there.

...

The next morning, Blossom awoke with heavy bags under her eyes. She was accustomed to returning late at night or even early in the morning, but she always managed to get a few solid hours of sleep before the next day. Dreams of the man from the tavern haunted her in a most pleasing manner and sleep eluded her.

Stifling a yawn, she crawled out of bed and rang the bell to alert her servant to draw her a warm bath. Reaching for her long robe, she saw a letter on her desk. Blossom rarely received mail, so she was curious to see what it was about.

Part of her hoped it was Dexter writing to let her know that he didn't care about the scandal, but she knew he could never overlook it. Dexter was always too proper. Another part of her lurched at the thought of the red-eyed stranger writing to her because he recognized her from their midnight meeting.

But her rampant thoughts were put to rest when she looked at the envelope.

It was from the Duke of York.

...

If enough of you enjoy this, I might just continue it! Let me know your thoughts C:

And always, thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** You're silly if you think I own anything! (I am the proud owner of a new iPad, a few gift cards and a boatload of candy. Thanks, Santa! :D)

**Author's Note:** Okay, so since y'all liked it so much, I just had to continue! I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter.

Special thanks to my anonymous reviewers, **PandoraHart** and **bcc**! Y'all are so sweet. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I've worked on this for the past few days, but I wanted to get it up by tonight as a special Christmas present for my loyal readers.

Merry Christmas! And enjooy! C:

...

"Hi, daddy," Blossom smiled weakly as she stepped into her father's study.

The Duke of Cambridge, her father, had just called on her a few minutes earlier. Normally Blossom would be ecstatic about seeing her beloved father, but recent events had tempered her enthusiasm. After reading the Duke of York's letter and carefully considering his offer over breakfast, she decided that she needed some time. She couldn't make such a life-altering decision in a split second!

She carefully weighed her options, trying to look at every aspect of the issue. First and foremost, it was incredibly noble of the Duke to offer his hand in marriage. He was under no obligation to marry Blossom, as the scandal certainly would not hit him as hard, but he still gracefully proposed. _As graceful as a few sentences in ink can be_, Blossom thought sullenly.

From his reasoning, she deduced he was incredibly clever. He had suggested that the two pretend they've known each other forever and were madly in love to make the ton believe the incident at Lumpkin's wasn't scandalous, but rather an excited response to an engagement. If they could fool the court into believing that the rumor was simply misunderstood, the scandal would quickly blow over and the new couple would be a hit.

From his rather austere words, however, she couldn't sense the charisma and charm he was devilishly famous for throughout London. _How can he be charming when he's being forced into marriage with me? _she reasoned despairingly.

From his title, Blossom knew it would be an advantageous marriage and that her future children would be heirs to a dukedom, like she and her two sisters were. They would be taken care of, for sure; and even if rumors surrounding the infamous duke's financial state were true, Blossom's exorbitant dowry would ensure financial safety.

And then a pang hit her. She had quickly resigned to never having a love marriage and that pain was starting to dull, but a fresh wound immediately opened as she mulled over her options. She couldn't understand why the duke was finally willing to settle down, and to a stranger no less, when an awful feeling washed over her.

Blossom was rich. The Duke of York was most likely not. He would make an unimaginably large sum of money by standing in a church and exchanging questionably veracious vows with her. By marrying her, his financial woes would disappear in a single, fell swoop. He wasn't being a gentleman and he didn't want her for being Blossom; he wanted her for her money.

But in such times, how could she expect any less? Everyone married for money or power; why should their case be any different? He would marry her for her riches and she would marry him for power- to reign over a dukedom and salvage her precious reputation. Blossom sighed bitterly. This certainly isn't what she had envisioned for herself, even in her worst nightmares.

"Blossom, dear?" a soft voice prodded gently, tearing the redhead from her reverie.

"Oh, sorry, daddy," Blossom said demurely as she lowered her coral eyes and sat across from her father. "What did you need?" she asked quietly, looking up at him expectantly.

Duke John Utonium swallowed, noticing the drastic change in his eldest daughter. Her characteristic confidence and pride had been replaced with a reserved, reticent manner that made him cringe. It pained him to see his strong Blossom in such a state.

"How are you holding up?" he asked gingerly, watching her with tenderness.

"I've been better," she let out a small smile, trying to be strong for her father. She knew how much he loved her.

"Okay," he said softly. Taking in a deep breath, "I received a letter earlier this morning from the Duke of York... I trust you have as well?"

Blossom simply nodded, letting her pink irises fall downcast.

"Have you at least considered his offer?" the duke asked tenderly. "Perhaps we could at least give the man a chance," he suggested.

Blossom looked up, a flame of her characteristic confidence piercing her gaze, "Father, you can't think me foolish enough to turn down the duke's kind offer. I know it won't be the marriage I always dreamed of, but I know it's the best I'll get and I cannot say no," she stated resolutely. She gave her father a warm smile to let him know she had come to terms with her decision.

"Blossom, you know you don't have to wed him. You're welcome to stay in Cambridge as long as you'd like." His eyes were wide and they told her that he didn't want her to feel forced into the marriage.

She couldn't suppress a warm smile at her father, "I know. And... I want this. I don't know the duke very well, but I think this will be for the best." Her words were more to convince her than her father.

"I just want you to be happy, Blossom," Duke John murmured, letting a smile fall on his lips. "Brick is a good man and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Brick?" Blossom murmured, hearing her betrothed's name for the first time. She swallowed and looked up at her father, trying to maintain her composure. She couldn't let him down. "Thank you, father," she said formally.

"I will write to him and we will decide on a time to meet this evening to sort out the marriage details, then," her father's somber tone meant that Blossom wouldn't be invited to their talk. "Your sisters will take you shopping for your bridal trousseau." His tone softened as he gazed at her once more, "And Blossom, dear. I love you."

"I love you too, daddy," the redhead took a final bow before excusing herself to find her sisters.

As Blossom stepped out of the study and gazed out the adjacent window to see the town, dread filled her. She knew nothing about her future husband- how would he react to her evening escapades? Surely he would cry off if he learned Blossom was a wholly improper spy for the crown. The redhead bit her lip as she held back tears. Investigating had become such a large part of her life now and she couldn't imagine giving it up. What if she never uncovered another French secret? What if she never stepped into another seedy tavern? What if she never saw the handsome red-eyed stranger again?

As feelings she had tried to suppress all morning returned, she began to wonder if accepting York's proposal was a good idea. Taking in a deep breath, she tried to mollify herself. _Of course it was_, Blossom chided herself. She should forget about the virile stranger already and focus her thoughts on her future life. A life where she would be forced to give spying up soon. Unless...

Her luscious lips curled into a smirk as she discovered a solution to her dilemma. She would allow the Duke of York, _Brick_, many conjugal freedoms, but restricting hers would not be one of them.

...

"Congratulations, York. Never thought I would actually see the day you settle down," the brunet grinned arrogantly at Brick, but his wishes were sincere. He plopped down in the comfortable chair across from his boss and looked at him expectantly.

"Thanks, Mitchelson," the virile redhead responded sardonically. His brothers had been busy all morning, spreading news of his impending marriage to Lady Cambridge and from all the wishes he had gotten so far, they appeared to do the job well.

He had just received word from the lady's father, the Duke, that he was to meet the family and discuss particulars later in the evening. As if managing his estate and running the Foreign Embassy weren't enough work, Brick would soon be responsible for a young chit he had little interest in. He didn't know much about her, but from what he had gathered, she didn't seem like his type of lady. He stifled a groan in anticipation. If she was like any of the other vapid ladies eagerly chasing after him, perhaps asking for her hand had been a mistake.

As memories from late last night resurfaced, Brick became almost sure it was a mistake. Part of his job protecting British interests involved him visiting known French hubs within in the city and while it never was much trouble, he had started to notice a few unpleasant patterns. There was one patron who made regular, surreptitious visits to a tavern in Cambridge and from his manner, Brick was immediately suspicious. Imagine his surprise when he cornered the visitor and interrogated him, only to discover that he was really a _she_ and indeed the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on! He allowed his virility to get the best of him and instead of gathering information, he had kissed her and allowed her a free escape.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss with the shady noblewoman, but he didn't want to believe that she could be a French spy. He hated that possibility and hated the fact that he would probably never see her again even more. He knew it would be best if he forgot her and married the silly Cambridge chit so he could restore York and refocus his energies into gathering French information for the British crown.

"Are you quite alright?" Lord Mitch Mitchelson looked at his superior curiously.

"Quite," Brick said grimly, leaving his thoughts. Returning his attention to the earl, he added, "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"Just how lucky you are," he grinned. "Lady Cambridge's beauty is legendary and I hear she's worth quite a pretty pence."

Brick snorted, he knew of her riches, but hearing of her beauty assuaged him. If he had to deal with her, at least she'd be attractive. "Absolutely," he replied smoothly to Mitch's statement.

"Does she know about your work here at the Foreign Embassy?" Mitch prodded, curious whether his boss had shared his surreptitious line of work with his future wife.

Brick frowned. He didn't want to hide his job from the chit, but at the same time, he didn't want to put her in danger. Brick hadn't told Blossom about his side job and he wasn't sure when, or even if, he would. The redhead was about to reply to Mitch when the brunet spoke again.

"Oh, I forgot to give you this," he said casually as he pulled out a sealed letter from his pocket. "It's from Lady B."

As Brick took the letter in his hands, he couldn't help but grin. This woman was one of the most helpful aids in the British war against France. She knew the most perfect bits of information and had saved the embassy on more than a few occasions. Unfortunately, no one was privy to her identity; if Brick knew who she really was, he wouldn't hesitate to compensate her for invaluable help.

The redhead tore the seal and his crimson irises widened as they absorbed the words on the parchment. He frowned as he neared the end and when he slammed the document on his desk, he glowered.

"Lady B has alerted us of a most terrible situation," Brick said grimly. "It appears we have a traitor in our midst."

...

The day had gone by quickly and before Blossom knew it, it was evening. The previous day she had expressed her assent to York's proposal and her father had met with the man that afternoon. Blossom missed him only by a few minutes; she and her sisters had returned from their day at the boutiques only moments after he had taken his leave. Unfortunately, the duke was a busy man and he had expressed his regret about not being able to meet her in person until this evening.

The redhead swallowed. She would be meeting her future husband for the first time in an entirely public place. Because of the scandal, every member of the ton would have their eyes glued to the pair, assessing whether or not their claim was veracious. It wasn't, of course; but Blossom desperately needed to make sure not a soul picked up on the real truth. She would have to greet the duke not only as if she knew him, but like she was madly in love with him too. Her future was entirely contingent on whether or not their ploy succeeded.

As her mind wandered, she wondered what the duke, Brick, was like in person. From the few letters they had exchanged, she gathered that he was a proper, polite gentleman that was very intelligent and good with words. But was he like _really_? Was he reserved and reticent like Dexter or passionate and lurid like the tavern man who haunted her dreams? She shuddered, drawing her pelisse closer.

She lifted the newest letter on her table and let eyes scan over the reassuring inken words.

_My lady,_

_My deepest regrets that we may not meet privately before Greene's ball this evening, but I wish to remind you the importance of your countenance once we are acquainted at it. It is of most significance that you appear comfortable and happy to be with me, no matter your true feelings. However, I am confident you will not belie our ruse._

_I have heard much about you these past few days, especially praise for your radiant beauty. I do look forward to meeting you tonight and I hope you do not dread meeting me._

_Yours,_

_Brick, Duke of York_

Somehow, Blossom couldn't contain a blush after rereading his kind words. Surely he could not be as detestable as she feared.

"Blossom, are you ready?" Bubbles asked, peeking her head into her elder sister's room. She stepped in, grinning as her eyes scanned the redhead, Buttercup not far behind.

"I am," Blossom said quickly, placing the document back into a drawer. Turning around to face her sisters, she smoothed out the wrinkles of her resplendent rose gown. Anxious to please her future brother-in-law, Bubbles forced Blossom into a dazzling coral dress that hugged the perfect curves and was complete with a beaded neckline that teased the right amount of décolletage and brought out her sister's pink eyes. A few strands of pink pearls and matching earbobs completed Blossom's elegant outfit.

"You look amazing," the blonde's blue eyes were wide in awe.

"York's not going to know what hit him," Buttercup added with a smug grin.

Taking in a deep breath, Blossom put a warm smile on her face, pushed down the butterflies floating in her stomach and followed her sisters out to their carriage.

...

As Brick took a sip of champagne, he reflected on the past few days. After discovering the threat of a traitor within the Foreign Embassy that Brick secretly organized and learning the true extent to the disarray of the dukedom of York, spending yesterday evening with John Utonium had been rather pleasant. Utonium was transparent in his gratitude for Brick's offer and generous in his daughter's dowry, but he made it clear he refused to see Blossom hurt by the turn of recent events. Brick was happy to oblige to his terms, especially in light of the large sum that would soon occupy his pocket.

Now that the _particulars_ had been sorted out, the only thing left for Brick to do was to charm his fiancée. Deciding he had too many problems to conquer at the moment, the redhead figured he wouldn't add a disgruntled wife to them. Her letters to him had been curt, so he still didn't know much about the future duchess, aside from hearsay. Brick was prepared to see a corpulently fat or sickly gaunt, acrimonious termagant or obsequious sycophant in a few minutes, so taking another sip of alcohol, he turned towards his brothers.

"Are you ready?" Boomer asked gently, tugging on his cuffs, nervous for his brother.

"No," Brick snorted. Sobering his expression, he added, "But I'll do what I have to."

"I hear she has sisters...?" Butch raised an eyebrow curiously as he took a swig.

The redhead smirked, "Play your cards right and you might end up with a third of the Cambridge fortune too."

Butch let out a sardonic laugh at his brother's good-natured ribbing, "I don't think so. This captain's content to live a life of bachelorhood."

Boomer shook his head at his brothers, but his lively expression soon turned grim. "Don't turn around, Brick."

The red-eyed duke did the exact opposite and looked behind himself to see a haughty chesnut-haired woman with smug amber eyes. He glowered and took a long swig of drink. "What in hell, Boomer?" he growled.

"I warned you," the blond shrugged.

"Dude, forget about her. You're marrying Lady Cambridge, remember?" Butch attempted to console him.

"I know, I know," Brick grumbled. "I just didn't expect to see _her _here," he shook his head.

"She _is _the Princess," the blue-eyed brother reminded gently. "And I'm sure she can't bother you tonight, of all nights."

Brick muttered a few curses under his breath, but his response was swiftly interrupted by a booming announcement.

"Please welcome Lord John Utonium, Duke of York and his three daughters, Lady Blossom, Lady Buttercup and Lady Bubbles of Cambridge!"

Applause filled the room and Brick joined in, focusing his attention on the spiral staircase the four nobles were descending upon. He immediately recognized the graying duke, but the three beauties who followed him were lost upon the redhead. The first was a dainty, petite blonde with soft features and sparkling blue eyes that matched her aquamarine gown; the second was a tall brunette with an athletic build and sharp features that framed her jade eyes and complemented her verdant dress; but the third, final lady was absolutely breathtaking.

Her shimmering copper locks were piled up in an elegant bun, a single curled strand framing her gentle face on each side. Her high cheekbones, porcelain skin, and luscious lips weren't the most stunning part of her, however; large, glittering rosy eyes that carefully flickered around the ballroom were. As Brick's eyes lowered to her ample bosom and womanly curves, he felt a distinctly masculine heat rush down. His gaze returned to her angelic face that exuded confidence, grace and pride; a face that seemed familiar somehow. But Brick quickly put that thought to rest. If he had known her from somewhere else, there's no way he wouldn't remember her beauty.

As Cambridge approached the three brothers with his brood fast behind him, Brick wondered which one was his. While the blonde and brunette were beautiful, he would have a hard time staying faithful if their redheaded sister lingered in his company. Mulling how to introduce himself without being completely obvious, he realized that his fiancée was probably doing the same exact thing. She must be looking at the three brothers, curious to see which one she was scandalously linked to.

"York, always a pleasure," the duke stepped forward to shake his future son-in-law's hand solidly. Butch and Boomer took a step back, opening up Brick to the ladies. Each of the three's eyes widened, a glint of pleasure highlighting each of their gazes as they realized who the duke was.

Damn it, they all looked happy to see him. He had no hint as to which should be the happiest. Realizing that the entire room has its eyes to glued to the group, Brick sighed and took his first chance. Taking the delicate hand of the blonde into his own and kissing it briefly, he asked for a dance. She giggled and smiled in assent.

"Very kind of you to dance with the lonely sister first, my lord," Bubbles' blue eyes twinkled in amusement as they swirled on the ballroom floor.

"You're not Lady Blossom?" Brick's eyes widened as he led them in step.

"I'm Bubbles, unfortunately. ...You seem relieved, my lord," she teased gently. Not allowing him to respond, she added coyly, "May I inquire who the blonde man standing behind you earlier was? He seems most pleasant."

"He is," the redhead smirked. "I'm sure my brother, Boomer, would be flattered to have your attentions, my lady."

As the dance came to an end, he led Bubbles back to her father. He was about to ask the blonde which of her remaining sisters was his fiancée when the two returned to earshot of the ton. Brick cringed. He couldn't ask her know lest the entire court find out their ruse.

Taking in a breath, he approached the brunette and gently kissing her hand, the redhead requested a dance. Snorting in a most unladylike fashion, she followed him to the floor.

"Surely you don't think _I'm_ Blossom," the green-eyed lady raised an eyebrow as she stepped to the dance's prescribed movements.

"Of course not," Brick replied, a little too quickly, refusing to let the chit think him a fool. Suddenly realizing that the resplendent redhead _had _to be his future wife, his red eyes lit up. Returning his attention to her sister, he added, "Lady Buttercup, I was hoping to make a favorable impression on my future wife by honoring her sisters with a dance each first," he lied smoothly.

"Hmm," Buttercup swirled, not completely convinced. "As you say, my lord. Do tell, who is that buffoon staring in our direction? I believe you were conversing with him earlier. My apologies if he is your friend," she added quickly.

"No apology necessary," the redhead said wryly as he looked back to see Butch's eyes fixed on the brunette. "He's my brother, Butch. Do yourself a favor and stay away from him," he said half-seriously, half in jest.

"I'll keep that in mind," the brunette murmured as the dance came to an end and Brick released her.

Making his way to Lady Blossom, Brick couldn't help his eyes as they traveled down her. He suddenly shelved his regrets about proposing to her, but a tugging sense of familiarity wouldn't evade him. He approached the redhead and bowing deeply, he took her hand and laid the most tender kiss he'd ever given on her soft flesh.

"My love," Brick murmured, loud enough for the curious eavesdroppers to hear. "Grant me this dance."

"Of course, my lord," Blossom bowed her head in assent, allowing a rosy blush to capture her cheekbones.

Not taking his hand off hers for a moment, he slowly brought her to the floor as a waltz, the most intimate of dances, began to play.

"How perfect," the duke let out a little smirk as he brought the lady close. He had to stifle his natural reaction to having such a beautiful woman pressed up against him. The odd familiar tug pulled once again, but Brick ignored it, turning his attention to the other redhead instead. "There's not a soul whose eyes aren't on us, right now."

Shivers went up Blossom's spine as his warm breath pooled near her neck and ear. Unbeknownst to him, she too felt a sense of déjà vu as she was held in his arms. Bringing her mind back to their present situation, she responded to his earlier statement. "We _are_ the object of the year's best scandal, my lord," she replied, her confidence shaky as she stepped along with the duke.

"Please, call me Brick," he offered, but his authority seeped through his words and made them seem more like a gentle demand.

"As you wish, my- Brick," Blossom's coral eyes fluttered downward, as a sudden apprehension seized her. His sparkling red eyes seemed so familiar... So comfortable. So enticing.

"Do I have the permission to refer to you by your given name, my lady?" Brick murmured, knowing it was all a formality. Still, he asked.

"That goes without saying, of course," the smaller redhead said softly, mustering up the courage to look back up at him. Their gazes met and neither could suppress a smile.

"I think now would be an appropriate time to laugh coyly, as if I've just whispered a sweet nothing in your ear," he lowered his voice and bent his head down to the crook of her neck.

Blossom let out a short giggle, but looked up at her fiancé seriously soon afterwards, "If you want to hear more of my laugh, I would like to hear a sweet nothing," she stated, a small smile teasing her lips.

"If you insist," Brick smirked as he spun her around. Bringing her lithe body back to his, he whispered, "You're so much more beautiful and well-tempered than I had envisioned."

Blossom blushed and held her end of the bargain with a laugh that would make a coquette jealous before replying, "I thank you for the compliment, but I am sure you will rescind your latter statement once we become better acquainted," she warned.

"Well, I thank you for the warning, Pinky," he responded, a pet name rolling off his lips.

Her eyes widened, but she quickly regained her composure. "You are certainly more charming than I thought you would be," she said wryly.

"It's one of my most dangerous traits," he responded teasingly to her dry comment. The song came to an end and he did his best not to groan, but as they pulled apart, Brick felt a sudden loneliness. "Until later then, my love," he said gingerly, allowing wandering ears to hear the exchange. He kissed her hand, bowing, and she curtsied before the two went their separate ways.

...

"How cute," a dry voice drawled behind Blossom, causing the redhead to spin around and frown immediately.

"Princess," the redhead greeted curtly.

"Oh, Blossom," the amber-eyed princess shook her head as she stalked towards the pink-eyed lady, "Who do you think you're fooling?" she scoffed. "Pretending to be in love with Brick to salvage your reputation is _so _transparent."

Cut so deeply by her acrimonious words, Blossom didn't even realize Princess' casual use of Brick's first name. She put on a stony face as she eyed her archrival, "I don't know what you're talking about, Princess. We're engaged and we love each other very much." Her tone, so light and airy, could've fooled even the hardest skeptics.

"Whatever, Blossom," the chesnut-haired royal rolled her eyes. "I know Brick and I _know_ he'd never fall in love with you. Your money, maybe. But never you. You're not his type," she taunted, sticking her nose up arrogantly.

Her words pierced Blossom's heart, but the redhead was too proud to show it. She was searching for a biting response, but her words became stuck in her throat. How did Princess know Brick? And exactly _how_ well did they know each other?

Like a knight in shining armor, the object of her thoughts materialized and gently took her hand, paying no heed to Princess.

"Love, will you dance with me?" the redheaded duke requested gingerly.

Flushing, Blossom meekly nodded and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, silently thanking him for whisking her away.

"I hear you're acquainted with Princess," Blossom piped shakily after a few moments of silence.

"Hardly," Brick's friendly red eyes turned hard.

"Good," Blossom blurted contentedly, but suddenly regretted her words. She looked up at Brick contritely. "Sorry," she murmured for her breach of propriety. "I just really don't care much for her," she explained softly.

"Don't be," Brick scoffed, the glint in his crimson irises returning. "I'm just glad we have something in common," he grinned.

For the umpteenth time that night, the duke reveled in making his fiancée blush. He found her presence incredibly calming, her graceful, but sharp words surprisingly comforting. It was as if all of his problems disappeared the moment she looked at him and it felt amazing. Brick briefly wondered what type of unfamiliar feeling this familiar woman brought to him. Love? That was impossible.

Or was it?

...

Blossom let her radiant smile take over and it took little effort to play the part of smitten fiancée before the court as she returned to her sisters. The duke, Brick, was so much more than she had imagined and being with him made her feel like she was walking on air. He seemed so familiar, so warm and being with him felt wonderful and provided such a pleasant escape from the issues that plagued her life, like Princess and her tart words.

Blossom's heart sank when she remembered what Princess said.

Surely Brick didn't feel the same way she did right now... He was probably just elated to have captured such a wealthy bride. She tried not to let her smile falter, but suddenly a thought hit her. What if... What if Brick was the one behind the rumor? He would get a rich, beautiful bride and she would be in no position to turn him down. Anger flashed in her eyes as understanding washed over her. Suddenly, it all made sense. Princess was right; Brick didn't like her. He liked her money.

"Lady Blossom, may I have this dance?"

Snapped away from her thoughts, Blossom's pink eyes widened when she saw Archduke Dexter with an outstretched hand towards her. Turning him down wouldn't be a breach of propriety since it was well-known she was an engaged woman, but Blossom accepted his hand anyway. She wasn't sure why, though; did she still have feelings for him or was she in dire need to be removed from her thoughts of Brick?

Feeling no spark or uncontrollable smile at Dexter's flat touch, Blossom reasoned that it couldn't be the first one. She almost laughed at herself for thinking she had been in love with the archduke all this time when it was apparent they didn't have chemistry in the slightest.

"Lady Blossom, forgive me, but I had no idea," the archduke finally stated after clearing his throat. "I was not aware that York was courting you."

Her pink eyes widened not in shame, but anger. His accusatory tone was not welcome and she was tempted to respond with a biting remark, but-

"May I cut in?" Brick asked, tapping Dexter's shoulder imposingly. His request sounded more like a demand. At the intense flicker in his scarlet eyes, the scrawnier archduke had no choice but to bow out. As Dexter moved away and Brick took Blossom's hand, the smaller redhead was surprised to feel how warm the duke was. Carefully looking up at him, she quickly understood he was radiating anger.

"Brick, this is highly improper," Blossom chided, ignoring his evident rage. Dancing more than two dances with the same man was almost unspeakably inappropriate; she had to make that clear to him.

"Well, we aren't the most proper pair here, are we?" Brick responded, his words clipped. Her eyes flickered downward immediately at mention of the scandal. Looking at her more intensely, he added darkly, "And dancing with a former suitor is?"

Blossom frowned at his assumption, "The archduke and I are only friends. We've never been more," she clarified. It was the truth; what she and Brick had in an evening, Dexter didn't even come close to in months. The pink-eyed lady looked up resolutely to see her fiancé's response.

To her surprise, he had softened and looked almost contrite. "I apologize, then." After a pause, he added, "I trust you, Blossom. You should know that."

His words made her lose footing, but Brick swiftly placed one hand on her hips and another on her thigh to steady her. She accidentally let out a soft moan when she felt his touch there. Flushing, she looked down, furiously trying to hide her blush. Brick had confessed that he trusted her while Blossom wondered whether he had been the one to incite the horrid rumor that had brought them together. She questioned him on such an important issue that it was evident she couldn't trust him. She was ashamed and couldn't bear to look up at Brick.

Sensing her discomfort, Brick gingerly placed his hand on her chin and tilted it up so that she was forced to lock eyes with him. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked softly. She nodded once, smiling weakly. "I don't know who started that rumor, Blossom, but I'm a little happy they did," he murmured, his words sincere.

In that moment, Blossom couldn't say anything else except, "Me too, Brick."

...

Merry Christmas! I'd be elated if you left some presents in my stocking. And by presents I mean reviews and by stocking I mean inbox. It'd be super!

And as always, thanks for reading (:


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Eh, don't why I keep doing these. I just don't own it, folks.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the nice reviews! Y'all are the best.

Sorry if I didn't reply to your review... The site's being mean and won't let me. Hopefully it'll let up later and I'll get around to thanking you! Anyways, thanks to my anonymous reviewers, **PandoraHart **and** Anonymous**, for reading and reviewing! I appreciate it!

Anyhoo, enjooy!

…

Blossom gently tipped the teapot so it poured piping hot tea into the two china cups. Gingerly returning it to its place on the tray, the redhead carefully placed the first cup in the hands of her companion. As her dainty fingers grazed his hard, but smooth, ones, Blossom couldn't help but let her eyelashes flutter down demurely to mask the electricity his touch held for her.

"Can't bear to look at your future husband, Pinky?" he smirked, taking the cup from her.

Spurred by his complacent comment, Blossom looked up wryly, "Hardly the case, Brick."

"Good, because I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off of you," the other redhead smirked, causing a bright blush to dot her cheeks.

"Surely you came here for other reasons than flattering me," the pink-eyed woman raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of tea. As the morning sunlight enveloped her in a resplendent glow, the Duke of York tried to remember why he had actually come by the Cambridge Manor in the first place. He was finding that a little difficult right now.

"As of yet, those reasons elude me. I must blame my beautiful fiancée for commandeering all of my thoughts," the duke responded, eliciting another blush from his betrothed. As he gazed into her sparkling coral eyes, the familiar tug from last night returned. Surely he had seen her somewhere, but why couldn't he remember?

Blossom herself was a little unnerved as she looked at his chiseled features and glowingly warm crimson orbs. And as if his virility wasn't overwhelming enough, the petite redhead had never been the object of such intense attention and she had no idea how to reply to his advances.

"You need not court me, Brick. We _are _getting married in three days," Blossom gently reminded as she took another sip of tea. While the date her father picked took her by surprise, she understood that a rapid wedding was needed in order to convince the ton of their eager love for each other.

"I won't let that get in the way," he winked. Just when he thought she couldn't get rosier, she did.

"Enough about this," she said firmly. "You're so busy, Brick. Do tell me what it is you do," Blossom requested.

Brick's warm gaze suddenly darkened and Blossom regretted posing the question. Still, he answered, albeit cryptically, "Work alongside the wretched and clean up others' messes."

He didn't want to delve into how he investigated Frenchmen, especially now that the embassy had a traitor in its midst, nor did he wish to discuss the deplorable state of disarray that York was in due to his irresponsible father's poor decisions. But a quick glance at his startled fiancée brought Brick out of his reverie; she wasn't at fault for anything and he need not make her feel uncomfortable.

"But enough about me. Tell me, what is it that you do?" he asked, his voice silky.

Blossom couldn't suppress a giggle at his question. He didn't really expect her to reply with a serious response, did he? Sure, she could confess that she spied for the crown, but the redhead was developing a penchant for her rakish fiancé and wouldn't have him running away just yet.

"Embroider silks no one will ever use, try to temper my sisters and even castigate the staff from time to time," she drawled out, emphasizing the tediousness of her daily activities. She didn't add how, as eldest woman in the house, she maintained the manor; it certainly took a good portion of her time, but there was no reason she had to brag.

"You ought not sell yourself short, Pinky. I hear you run this place," Brick replied, eying her curiously. Yet again, Blossom blushed under his tender gaze. "And looking around, I would say you do a pretty good job," he examined the parlor. He added, "It's been a while since York has had a woman's touch," he murmured. Blossom softened, immediately recognizing his vulnerability, but didn't pry.

"Hopefully she won't mind me, then," Blossom smiled softly as she placed her empty teacup on the tray between them.

Neither unsure of what else to say, a moment of silence fell between them and the petite redhead started to feel the beginnings of discomfort. As her thoughts from yesterday returned, she felt the wave washing over her grow stronger. Blossom would be naïve to believe her fiancé hadn't had a hand in starting this mess. The duke would gain so much that she couldn't overlook the possibility of his role in propagating the rumor that linked them together. And as much as she didn't want to believe it, she had to find out the truth.

"I'm sorry you have to marry me, Brick," she murmured, afraid to meet his red eyes with her own. She wasn't comfortable with deception. "This entire situation must be overwhelming for you." She hoped she hadn't overacted. She just needed to see his response so she could determine his hand in this mess.

Brick frowned at her downcast expression, "If anything, Blossom, I'm sorry a gem like you is being forced to wed a beast like me. I've never met such a proper lady in my life," he smiled a genuine smile at her. "And it makes me wonder why _anyone_ would even believe that silly rumor. You would be the last lady in all of London to be caught in a library with me."

Blossom looked up at him, eyes wide, shocked by his words. And from the tender way he gazed at her, any doubts she had about him had disappeared completely. How could she think that this gentleman was behind the nasty rumor?

"Who do you believe started it, then?" she asked in a small, uncharacteristically-Blossom voice.

"I don't know. But I _will_ find out and they _will_ suffer the consequences. Not because they hurt me, because they didn't; but because they hurt you, love."

_Love_. Blossom's eyelids fluttered upward to meet Brick's smoldering countenance. She swallowed as little butterflies took over her stomach. Overcome by such emotion, she smiled weakly at him and began to pour another cup of tea.

…

Morning tea with Brick yesterday had elucidated many things for Blossom; for some reason, she saw the world more clearly and more comfortably, knowing she had a man that cared so deeply about her after only a few days of acquaintance. It warmed her heart knowing that she would have a love marriage after all.

Smiling to herself, she laid down her silk piece and needle and reached for the day's herald. Somewhere in between, her thoughts had shifted to the mysterious man she met in the village tavern a week back. Perhaps meeting Brick had taken away Blossom's attraction to man and she was now able to see the stranger in a new light.

Simply put, that tavern was only visited by French sympathizers and informants. The majority of men there were always drunk and out of the small sliver that weren't, most of them were French spies looking for respite. As much as it pained her to realize, the red-eyed stranger was sharp enough to pick up on her repeated presence, which meant that he was on guard and was ready for action.

He _had_ to be a French spy and there wasn't any way around it. Her heart sunk when she realized that instead of collecting secrets from him to feed to the crown, she had foolishly allowed him to kiss her! Blossom shook her head, immediately deciding she could never let something so silly interfere with her work ever again.

Looking at the front page of the news, her heart sunk even further. Her coral eyes furiously scanned the page, looking for a snippet that disproved the headline.

_It can't be_! Blossom thought, her mind in a daze. As she finished the article, she knew she had to come to the grim truth.

Mike Believe, her biggest supplier of French insider secrets, had been brutally murdered at the pier a few nights back. Her fingers shook as the papers in her hand fell to the floor. Someone knew that Mike had been secretly helping the crown and she couldn't shake the feeling that the red-eyed stranger was somehow involved. What if he was the one who killed Mike?

Blossom blanched, all of the color in her face gone. Gulping, a horrid thought occurred to her.

Now that Mike was gone, what if he would come after her next?

…

"Mike Believe? You can't be serious," Brick said, grimly incredulous. As soon as Mitch had broken the news to him, he had fetched a cup of whiskey and it was dangerously disappearing.

"They found the body. Pretty bloody if I could say so myself," Mitch shook his head, eyes downcast.

Brick growled, "The French are finally catching on… We can't lose anyone else," he muttered. He knew that traitor must've outed Mike; perhaps that man even killed Mike himself. Brick had to do something, but what?

"What's the plan, boss?" Mitch asked eagerly, seeing Brick's face contorted in thought.

"I want you to secure our informants. Gather all the security you can," Brick ordered. The brunet nodded quickly in assent before stepping out the room.

Another man followed him inside and bowed to Brick, "My lord, what else can we do?"

"I need you to send a Bow Street Runner after our Lady B, Elmer," he declared, giving the pasty man a serious look. "She could be in grave danger and she is not an expendable resource. I know tracking her will prove difficult because of her anonymity, but I am confident that we can protect her," he nodded solemnly.

"Absolutely, my lord. Anything else?" Elmer asked eagerly.

Eying his trusted servant carefully, Brick conceded. "While you're at it, send a runner after my fiancée, Lady Blossom of Cambridge. While this isn't work-related, I have reason to believe that she has a dangerous enemy and I'd like to know their identity. That is all. Thank you, Elmer."

With a swift nod, the man was gone and at his task. Finishing his glass of alcohol, he poured another cup of whiskey.

And if his problems at hand weren't enough, the mysterious noblewoman with fiery red locks that he encountered in the French-replete tavern the week before only added to his strife. Forgetting about that passionate kiss and her undeniable appeal to his masculine urges, he had finally been able to reason through her appearance. He had quickly deduced she was a noblewoman from her manner and due to her frequent visits to the shady replete-with-Frenchmen establishment, it pained him to realize that she must be a French sympathatizer. Sure, he had detected no trace of French in her dulcet voice, but why else would such a rich and resplendent woman frequent that specific tavern?

His grip on the crystal glass grew tighter when he realized how much power such a noblewoman had. Even if she was destitutely poor like he would be for the next two days, her alluring eyes and beckoning lips would be more than enough to lure any man she needed. Even if she needed a murderer.

The glass shattered when Brick threw it against the wall in fury.

What if his mysterious seductress had murdered Mike Believe?

…

As her guests filed into her childhood home for the dinner she had meticulously planned, Blossom made no effort to play the besotted woman. She didn't need to and neither did the man who would be her husband in less than a day.

"Congratulations," a tall, buxom redhead dressed in a crimson gown greeted the pair warmly. "I hope you all the happiness in the world."

"Thank you, Lady Sara," Blossom hugged the woman who had become her mentor. "You know I wouldn't be here without you," she whispered.

After her own mother had died, Blossom had no female role model to emulate and to learn from and her neighbor, Lady Sara Bellum, a young widow, had gracefully stepped in to help. Needless to say, Blossom wouldn't be half the well-groomed, proper and polite lady she was that day without the kind and prudent guidance of resplendent Lady Sara.

When the scandal hit, Blossom was scared of what Lady Sara would think of her, but the wise woman saw through the lies, including hers. The older redhead knew what the younger one was up to, but surprisingly was the first to congratulate her on the engagement. She looked rather pleased with the match and her blessings meant the world to Blossom.

"You're going to make a beautiful bride tomorrow," the tall redhead smiled radiantly. Turning towards the other half of the pair, she eyed Brick firmly, "You're getting an amazing young lady, York. I hope you realize that," she said frankly.

"I know," the duke rather smugly as he snaked an arm around his fiancée's waist. As expected, the petite redhead blushed at the contact, but her posture remained elegantly upright.

"Good," Lady Sara whispered softly before sending a final smile their way and turning to meet the other guests.

"Are you nervous?" Brick murmured into the crook of Blossom's neck as guests walked by curiously.

"Of course not," Blossom replied effortlessly as she looked up to her future husband, unsure of what she ought to be nervous about. "Should I?" she teased, a smile playing on her rosy lips.

"Not at all, love," the duke whispered, pulling her closer as they greeted their next guest.

…

"Robyn, where is the pudding? Our guests are anxious for dessert!" Blossom exclaimed as she entered the kitchen area. Her manner was definitely unconventional, but the redhead liked taking an active role in hosting dinner and if periodically checking up on the cooks and servers helped smooth over the process, she would have no qualms about doing it.

"It's coming, milady! So sorry for the delay," a brunette bowed quickly at her matron as she led a procession of pudding-carrying servants into the dining hall.

Blossom smiled warmly, letting her know that she was pleased, and was about to return to the dining hall herself when she felt a strong arm snake around her waist and pull her into the adjacent grain room. The redhead tried to let out a cry, but another warm hand gently covered her mouth.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the storage room, flickers of red and sharp, chiseled features came into sight. She let out a sigh of relief, but her breath was still hitched at being in such intimate proximity with the redhead. He had her pressed up against the cold stone wall, with one hand around her waist that was gradually falling lower and the other moving from her lips to gingerly stroking her cheek, pushing back a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He was radiating warmth and enveloping her in an ineffable feeling. Blossom had put her hands on his expansive chest to distance herself, but as he drew closer, her arms grew limp, allowing him full access to her.

"D-Dessert's ready, Brick," Blossom said weakly. "I had just come by to check on it," she explained quickly, her breathing uneven and unsteady.

"What a coincidence. I came back here for dessert too," Brick whispered, his voice low and suggestive as he stepped closer to her, removing the scant distance between the two.

Her eyes widening in realization and a furious flush threatening to climb up her neck, Blossom let out a weak protest, "Brick, this is highly improp-"

She stopped mid-sentence, suddenly recognizing the familiar feeling Brick brought. She wouldn't have realized it midday, but in the dark storeroom where she saw nothing but the outline of his strong jaw and flecks of his crimson eyes and auburn locks, she was able to piece it all together, albeit ironically since she had only had one encounter with a man that left her so breathless and unable to think. Her coral eyes widened in realization at the true identity of her fiancé. Suddenly, fear gripped over her and froze in place, unable to move.

"What's wrong, Pinky? Cat got your tongue?" he teased as he nibbled her earlobe and gingerly made his way to her lips. "Or should I say, the duke?" he smirked, placing his warm lips on hers, gently opening her mouth to explore.

Blossom could only whimper in response, unable to control her body as it molded to Brick's will. She tried to pull away, but sandwiched between the stone wall and his Herculean figure, it was impossible. She gasped for air when he finally pulled away; she was shocked at herself for actually reciprocating and enjoying his salacious venture. Blossom shut her pink eyes, unable to face him.

The swift movement brought Brick's attention to her piercing irises and in the moonlight, he suddenly remembered another pair of bright coral orbs and its concomitant soft lips. Carefully examining his fiancée in disbelief, he took an involuntary step backwards when he realized he couldn't deny the truth.

The petite redhead meekly opened her eyes and feeling the chasm between them, she swiftly made her escape.

"We ought to return before they wonder where we've disappeared to," she said, exuding a false confidence she didn't feel. She stepped to the side and tried to temper her pace as she dashed out of the dark room. She couldn't look back.

As she made her way back to the dining room, Blossom tried to compose herself. She took in a deep, calming breath and put on her false confidence as she returned to her friends and family. She couldn't let them know her thoughts; they couldn't know that she was chilled to bone after discovering her fiancé was a murderer.

Little did she know that Brick, who was slowly trailing after her, was thinking the same exact thing.

…

"You did good, boy," a cloaked figure congratulated another as he pulled out a bag of gold. "Here's the advance promised. The rest will follow once you've completed your task."

"Yes, sir," the second shady figure said greedily as he opened the bag to inspect his reward. "Silencing Mike Believe was simple, as will the rest of it be, I'm sure. You have my solemn oath."

"Good," the first man grinned wickedly. "I eagerly await Britain's downfall."

"As do I," the second silhouette agreed as he mounted his horse. "Viva la France!" he exclaimed before riding away.

"Viva la France," the shrouded man said sinisterly before his ominous laugh filled the darkness.

…

As always, I appreciate your reviews! Let me know what you're thinking and leave me a few words! C:


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Not mine!

**Author's Note: **Wow, 2011's almost behind us! Pretty crazy, right? I know it'll take me a while to get used to 2012... Especially when I'm writing the date on my paper! Anyhoo...

Thanks to my anonymous reviewers** PandoraHart** and **Blossom**. I'm so glad you're enjoying my fic!

A special thanks to the wonderful **Yellow-Lamborghini** for her help when I hit a little rut at the end of this chapter. (Go read her Reds story! It's fantastic!)

Anyways, if you like weddings, I think you'll like this chappie! ;D

...

As maids finally stepped out of the room to give Blossom a few moments of peace before the ceremony, the redhead started to shake. It was the first time she had been alone since last night when she discovered that her fiancé was a French spy who probably wanted to kill her. Turning to the vanity, she saw that all the color had been drained from her face and her teeth chattered in apprehension.

The redhead looked absolutely breathtaking in her snow white gown with pearl and beaded accents, her copper locks rolled up in an intricate, elegant bun and a few dashes of powder and color to her porcelain face. She looked the part of the beautiful bride, but she certainly didn't feel like it.

Taking in a deep breath, she sat down on her plush stool and tried to steady her ragged breathing and calm her thumping heart.

She could run away so Brick would never find her and she could move to the country and build a bucolic life that- No, that would never work. With only a half hour before the ceremony and her father's manor teeming with the security Brick had _ever so __graciously_ provided for a reason beyond her (perhaps so his bride wouldn't leave him at the altar, Blossom thought sardonically), there's no way she could escape.

That left her with one option- marry him. Her heart lurched. She couldn't marry a French spy, a killer! Suddenly, her eyes widened in understanding. As much as she wanted to get away from him, perhaps this marriage could be a good thing. She could get close to Brick and discover his secrets and collect incriminating evidence that would put a stop to his traitorous activities once and for all. In fact, who better to wed and infiltrate the French spy than Lady B herself!

Blossom found her resolution returning, as well as the color in her cheeks. Another reassuring thought occurred to her then. Brick and the French were after Lady B, not the soon-to-be Duchess of York. As long as he didn't discover that they were one and the same, Brick would have no reason to hurt his bride. As long as she gained his trust by doing whatever he wished of her, Blossom would be safe. The redhead found herself coloring at thoughts of Brick would want of her. Especially on their wedding night! Her blush was returning much too quickly now.

Twiddling her thumbs, she tried to forget how her heart lurched in excitement every time she saw him. She had to forget the magnetic hold his touch had on her.

If she wanted to succeed and bring an end to this all, she needed to table her heart and its irrational response to the duke's wit, charm and insidious smirk and use her brain to solve this puzzle instead.

...

Brick impatiently fingered his cravat as his thoughts centered around the woman he would wed in a few minutes. Brick of York was never nervous; no, if anything, he was angry. Angry at his blushing fiancée for leading him to believe she was such a proper, demure, innocent woman and angry at himself for believing her ruse. The minute he laid eyes on her in the tavern and at the ball, he knew there was something amiss about her; she always seemed to be a hiding something and now that Brick knew what it was, he would ensure that she would pay dearly for her deception.

She was incredibly intelligent, that was undeniable, but she was also a woman and Brick had plenty of experience with her kind. As much as he hated seeing a beautiful woman at the gallows, he had to protect his country and if the conniving chit was a true threat, Brick would take her there himself. It pained him to think that Blossom, a woman whom he found himself attracted to immediately for her grace and moral rectitude, was guilty of one of the highest crimes a person could commit.

He was facing a rather formidable foe considering how effortlessly she pulled off such wool in front of his eyes. He needed to forget how wonderful she made him feel and focus on discovering what else she was hiding and turn her over to the proper authorities.

Still, it all didn't add up. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, he knew there was another part of the puzzle and he needed to figure it out.

His blond brother who stood beside him in front of the altar, mistook his grim expression for wedding jitters and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry, Brick. It'll all turn out just fine," he said reassuringly.

"And if this doesn't work out, we'll just pick you out a fine mistress," the brunet brother whispered, a teasing glint sparkling in his emerald eyes.

The redhead simply nodded, forcing a smile at his brothers before returning his eyes to the marble floor of Westminster Abbey. While neither of their words were particularly reassuring, it assuaged him to know that no matter what happened, his faithful brothers would be at his side.

A few moments later, the orchestra began to play and the radiant bridesmaids filed down the aisle, stopping appropriately before the altar, lined up in perfect precision. As the last ones, Blossom's blonde and brunette sisters, came to their places opposite Brick's own brothers, the music became louder and the guests stood up from the pews.

Craning his neck to the entrance to get a glimpse at his bride, Brick didn't even notice the glances their siblings exchanged with one another. Narrowing his eyes, he saw a woman in angelic white with an older man on her arm. As the two walked slowly into view, Brick didn't have to force a smile at seeing his bride.

She looked breathtakingly resplendent in her glittering snow gown; her copper locks sparkling in the light and her coral eyes glistening in prenuptial pride. Blossom was determined to keep a straight face during the processional, but seeing the longing look in Brick's eyes caused her blush and made an involuntary smile appear on her rosy lips.

The duke couldn't keep his eyes off of Blossom and with every dainty, poised step she took closer to him, he felt his heart thump faster in his chest. At that moment, it seemed absolutely impossible for such an angel to be guilty of the crimes she was. It baffled him, but his thoughts quickly dissipated as she reached the altar and her father handed her off to Brick.

When their hands touched and their eyes locked, an ineffable feeling surged through them. Both were secretly studying the other for clues, but neither could deny the powerful attraction that pulled them together.

As the priest cleared his throat and the church fell into a silence as he started the invocation, neither redhead could stop smiling nor take their eyes off the other.

...

"Congratulations yous too," a lanky earl with a faint green complexion said to the newlyweds outside of the church.

"Thank you, Earl Greene," the redheaded duke nodded politely, signaling him to move on so the couple could greet the other guests.

"You wouldn't happen to know where your sister is, would you?" Greene whispered to Blossom, keeping his voice low because both knew such a question was highly improper.

The new duchess's eyes widened, knowing he wanted Buttercup, and she looked behind her to see both of her sisters engaged in lively conversation with her brothers-in-law. She smiled softly, but returned to the earl, "Sorry, Ace. I think she's a little busy at the moment."

The earl frowned, muttered something and moved along. Blossom let out a sigh of relief, causing Brick to look at her curiously.

"He's been courting Buttercup for a while now," she explained softly, not wanting the others to hear. To everyone else, it looked like the newlyweds were engaged in a loving discussion, basking in nuptial glow.

Brick nodded knowingly, but turned to the next guest instead of responding.

"Dexter, it's good to see that you made it," the duke said tightly. Brick never liked him and seeing the way the lanky archduke eyed his new wife made his distaste for the man only grow.

"Of course, I would never miss this ceremony," Dexter replied primly, but allowed his eyes to wander to Blossom.

Not sure how to respond, she let her eyes flutter down demurely. Still latched onto Brick's arm, Blossom felt ironically safe in his embrace under Dexter's discomfiting stare. She wondered how she ever thought she had feelings for the man. It was odd how given the chance to do it all over again, Blossom still would've picked insidious Brick despite the danger he brought. Whereas Dexter was bland and flat, Brick was exciting and passionate and stirred all types of new feelings in Blossom in spite of the grim truth of his loyalty.

Realizing that the couple had nothing left to say, Dexter took leave and the next guest stepped up.

"Princess, thank you for gracing us with your presence," Blossom said dryly. Princess was too vacuous to pick up on her improperly sarcastic greeting, so Blossom had no qualms in saying it. Brick merely looked at his new wife amusedly.

"It was no trouble," the amber-eyed royal said haughtily, not giving her rival another glance. Turning towards Brick, her eyes widened and she puffed out her chest almost shamelessly.

Blossom had to suppress a gasp at Princess's outrageous behavior and at her _wedding_, for goodness sake! Irking Blossom further, Brick didn't seem to mind the display and looked at the princess of Britain curiously.

"Brick, dear, I do hope we remain friends," the chestnut-haired termagant batted her eyelashes hopefully. "I can only imagine the toll this marriage will take on you, and if you need anything- _anything, _dear, don't hesitate to ask," she whispered suggestively as she stepped closer to him, going so far as reaching out to stroke his cravat.

Blossom could only look on in silent fury as her husband carefully removed Princess's claws and cordially responded to her statement before she left. As the remaining guests approached the couple one by one, Blossom couldn't stop thinking about how intimately connected Princess and her husband seemed and she couldn't stop wondering how well they really knew each other.

She smile wryly, recognizing her petty jealousy when there were important things at stake. Mentally chiding herself, Blossom knew she had to remember the important things.

"Are you alright, love?" Brick asked softly. He mentally cursed at allowing that term of endearment to slip in, but he had noticed a change in her behavior earlier and wanted to make sure it wasn't dangerous.

Blossom involuntarily blushed at his sentiment and looked down, unable to formulate a response. She mentally berated herself for not being able to control her blushes.

Brick curiously watched her and being in such close proximity to her, felt her soften against him. Suddenly, he realized that a change in strategy was in order. His conniving wife played the besotted bride well and if his sweet nothings were enough to physically bring down her barrier, then perhaps he ought to play seduction against her instead.

Carefully, the petite redhead let her eyes flutter upward and seeing Brick's dazzling smile, she had a similar change of heart. Reminding herself that she shouldn't fear him, she smiled back, hoping her beam was as radiant as his. Perhaps she could let her brain take a brake and let her grace take its place. The duke seemed to appreciate her blushes and smiles and Blossom quickly realized that they could be used to gain his trust, allowing her to learn more about the other redhead and his role in this mess. While it seemed farfetched that he would confess his crimes to her if she enticed him, using her beauty and natural attraction for him to get closer was surely a good start.

Eyes sparkling, "As long as I'm with you, Brick," Blossom murmured demurely, her words much more sincere than she wished them to be.

...

"Blossom, I must say you handled Princess quite well," Bubbles exclaimed as she gazed at her older sister as a servant handed the blonde a drink. Shortly after the wedding, all of the guests had gathered at Brick's manor for hor d'oeuvres and mingling before the grand wedding dinner. Blossom's sisters stayed by her side as she met her guests and the duke and his brothers did the same, but on the opposite side of the large foyer.

"If it were me, I would've knocked her out cold the moment she touched him," Buttercup said wryly, agreeing with her sister's statement. Blossom smiled in response. She always strived to be a good role model for her sisters. Dealing with Princess was hard enough, but at least she had done so in the most proper manner.

"The nerve! After breaking off her engagement with him, she starts flirting with him on his wedding day! How despic-" the blonde stopped mid-sentence when she saw the redhead's incredulous expression. "Blossom, are you alright?"

"I'm sorry, did you say Brick and Princess were _engaged_?" Blossom blinked, unable to comprehend what her sister was saying.

"Yeah, it was a few years back. Big scandal and all that. Everyone knows about it," Buttercup frowned, taking a sip of her drink. Looking up at Blossom's horrified expression, she blanched. "Shit, Blossom, you didn't know about it?" she said, her voice hushed.

The redhead simply shook her head weakly, "No one told me..." she murmured, looking down. It was too much to absorb all at once; Princess, her biggest rival, had been with Brick before she had? Her heart sank. Why didn't Brick mention this when she asked him about Princess the night they first met? What if they still had feelings for each other?

And why did all this even matter to her? Blossom shouldn't care about Brick. She shouldn't. But she couldn't help it.

"Blossom, he picked you. He married _you_. Not her. Please don't think about it like that," the blue-eyed sister whispered as she came beside her to wrap a comforting arm around the new duchess.

Blossom tried to smile in agreement, but she couldn't. "Only because he had to," she laughed mirthlessly.

"No, he didn't _have _to. He wanted to, Bloss," the green-eyed sister said this time, taking an emphatic step towards her. "He could've married that witch and become prince, or even king, but they broke it off and he's with you now. You're not blind enough to miss the way he looks at you. Blossom, it's love if I've ever seen it," Buttercup finished, uncharacteristically gentle, as she took her sister's hands into her own and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

Blossom couldn't disagree with her sister's logic. She made a good point. "You're right, you two. Why should I be jealous of Princess?" she finally let out a small smile.

"You're married now and you're going to be very happy," Bubbles stated resolutely, looking at the redhead.

"Especially after tonight," Buttercup winked salaciously.

Blossom blanched. Out of everything she was worried about all day -investigating Brick, playing the part of the besotted bride, keeping her temper with Princess, organizing the wedding dinner-, the night's activities had completely eluded her mind. How could she forget what she would be forced to do after this dinner? She swallowed.

"You have nothing to be nervous about. I'm sure the duke will be an _excellent _teacher," Bubbles giggled. Blossom frowned. Her sisters seemed to be enjoying this ribaldry!

"Now go," Buttercup pushed her sister towards the dining hall. "I can see that your husband is eagerly awaiting for you to join him at the table," she grinned.

...

"How did you know my favorite dishes?" Brick asked curiously his wife as he put his fork in his mouth.

Currently eating dinner, Brick was exhausted from the events of the day. Between overseeing the preparation of his mansion for Blossom's arrival, the actual wedding, greeting the guests and listening to their licentious commentary concerning his evening, keeping Princess at a comfortable distance, managing the Foreign Embassy remotely though Elmer and doting excessively on his new wife, Brick almost considered falling asleep as soon as he could.

Looking over at the beautiful redhead seated beside him, who was engaged in lively conversation with her sisters and Lady Sara; at his wife who looked absolutely radiant, laughing in her rose gown, Brick quickly nixed the idea of foregoing his husbandly privileges of the evening. Turning his full attention towards his bride, he reached out for one of her curls subconsciously and before he knew it, she had turned to face him in response, only to meet his crimson gaze and quickly look downcast demurely.

"I'm glad you're enjoying dinner, Brick," she murmured softly before her long lashes fluttered upward again. She smiled warmly at the duke, seemingly content in his presence. While she wasn't unhappy to be at his side, seated at the dais in the front of the room, her mind was alert and quickly absorbing her new surroundings.

Raised in Utonium Manor her entire life, Blossom had to quickly become accustomed to Brick's mansion and his mannerisms before she could execute her plan. She had to focus, but Brick's mercurial actions like playing with her hair were detracting from her concentration. With a final glance in his direction, she returned to her dinner and carefully cut a piece of veal before elegantly placing it in her mouth. She returned to her conversation with her familiar friends, unsure what to say to Brick.

Surely their minds were thinking about the same thing -the evening they would soon share- but that talk was hardly appropriate for such a formal dinner. Still, somehow that didn't stop their guests from constantly bringing up the topic, Blossom thought wryly.

So engaged in conversation with her sisters and mentor, desperately trying to forget her imminent fate, Blossom didn't notice the surreptitious glances Brick threw around the dining hall, as if he was anxiously looking for someone.

His red eyes suddenly narrowed at a single point against the opposite wall, focusing on a scrawny, speckled blond with an baleful look on his face. Brick frowned, knowing that something was wrong.

"There's a quick piece of business I must address, love. Do excuse me," Brick picked up Blossom's free hand and gently kissed it before carefully stepping away from the table. Blossom was immensely curious about what her husband was up to, but couldn't follow him, lest she raise his suspicions. She nodded softly as he left, wondering to herself what traitorous activity he would soon do.

...

As an unexpected pin popped out of her elegant coif, the pink-eyed duchess had momentarily excused herself from dinner so she could quickly fix it. Finding a powder room and an eager maid, the pin was swiftly put back into place and Blossom was free to return to her guests.

Not entirely familiar with the layout of her new home just yet, the redhead accidentally took a wrong turn and ended up in an unfamiliar area. She was about to retrace her steps and find her way back when she heard an unexpectedly familiar voice. Blossom's coral eyes widened and in fear, she fell into a cranny, pressed up against cold stone.

_"Damn it, Elmer. I told you to find her!"_ a voice that sounded distinctly like her husband exclaimed.

"_Sorry, my lord, but we need more time. We have no leads,_" another voice who had to be Elmer, said sadly.

Brick sighed, "_Sorry, Elmer. This isn't your fault. But you know how important it is for the country. We need to find Lady B._"

Blossom's heart lurched. He was sending people around the city looking for her! Brick was ruthless; even on their wedding night, he was fixated on finding the spy. She blanched, wondering what he would do once he found her. Or rather, Lady B.

"_Absolutely, my lord. We will,_" Elmer promised before his receding footsteps signaled that he was leaving.

Blossom let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding and decided that she needed to return to dinner before Brick. He couldn't realize that she was missing, especially since he would connect the dots and surmise that she had eavesdropped on his private conversation. All sense and logic told her to get off the wall and walk back to the dinner, but when she heard another set of footsteps enter the study, she froze in place.

Brick had another visitor. Who could it be?

...There was only one way to find out.

"_Brickie, why did you do this?__" _a shrill, but familiar voice, asked softly, aware of the circumstances.

Blossom swallowed. She knew that awful sound from a mile away; it was Princess. Her eyes narrowed in anger at that woman being in her husband's private quarters. Her heart sank when she remembered their intimate relationship; it fell even further when she surmised why they were there together. Shutting her eyes firmly to hold back welling tears, Blossom gathered her skirts and quietly, but swiftly, returned to her proper place in the dining hall.

_How could I expect him to be faithful to his wife when he can't even be faithful to his country? _she chided herself, holding back hot tears.

...

"Princess, you shouldn't be here," Brick narrowed his crimson eyes at her.

"Brickie, I _had _to see you," she exclaimed, taking a step towards him. She reached out and draped her hands around his strong neck. "I can't believe you actually went through with this," she murmured, genuine sadness in her voice.

Brick growled, prying her hands off of him as he gave her a steady glare, "What we had, Princess, if we even _had_ anything, is long gone and you ought to get over me. I'm a married man now."

"That's never stopped anyone before," the royal licked her lips invitingly, completely ignoring his words.

"Have you even stopped to consider that I might love my wife? That I might not have feelings for you anymore?" Brick glowered at her desperation. Even in his anger, he was surprised how easily those words slipped from his mouth. As if he actually felt them; as if they were actually true.

Princess scoffed, "You two have fooled everyone. Everyone but me! I know about your little lie. You don't love her because you've only known her for a week!" she cried. "You didn't propose to her in that library because neither of you were even there!"

Brick growled, his red eyes flickering in understanding, "Then why did you tell everyone that?" his voice menacingly low.

Princess's amber eyes widened when she realized she had accidentally given away the truth. She frowned, deciding it would be fruitless to deny it, "It was supposed to destroy that damn Blossom and bring you back to me! But it clearly didn't work," she glowered.

"Clearly," Brick said dryly. Carefully studying her, he shook his head in pity, "I didn't think you capable of something like that, Princess. But I was wrong. You're not welcome here."

Her eyes widened in desperation, "Brick, please-"

"I should thank you for bringing Blossom to me, you witch, but I am not a plaything for you to manipulate. You're not welcome here. Get the hell out of my house," the redhead narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"You can't do that! I'm the Princess!" she cried.

"And I don't give a damn. Get out," he demanded. When she refused to move, he simply walked by her impassively, straightening his cravat before he left.

The duke smirked as he reentered the hall, his eyes resting on his bride and his thoughts pondering what he would soon do to her in the privacy of their wedding chamber.

...

"Love, I believe it's time for us to retire," Brick said softly, smirking as he turned towards his wife. She turned a ripe shade of scarlet, but nodded weakly in assent, understanding what she had to do. The duke turned back towards his guests and formally announcing his and his new wife's departure, stood up and gave Blossom his hand.

Everyone shared knowing glances and whispered either words of ribaldry or encouragement as the couple retreated from the dining hall to their wing. Brick led her into a hallway with two rooms, one his and one hers.

"I'll give you a few minutes to _prepare_ before joining you in your chamber," her husband gallantly declared before taking her hand and gracing it with a parting kiss.

Stepping into her room, Blossom's eyes widened at the luxury it held; the bed was enormous, the walls were tall, the fire was softly roaring and two maids stood at her side. But the redhead's awe was short-lived; once she spotted the only garment in the entire room -a diaphanous silk chemise-, she blanched. It was a soft rose and quite plush, but as she fingered the ephemeral material, her confidence began to waver.

She swallowed as her maids began carefully unbuttoning her gown and the myriad layers of clothing under it. She was frozen in place, her thoughts digressing, stirring up every apprehension and fear she had at the moment.

It felt like she only blinked and her rich gown had been replaced with the revealing chemise that made no effort to hide any of her milky skin. Her coif had been neatly uncoiled and her loosely curled copper locks adorned her shoulders and part of her back. Turning towards the mirror, she could tell how pale she was turning.

She almost started shaking like she had earlier in the day, thinking about her villainous husband. Not only was he -a duke, a man of the king, no less!- working against his mother land to support odious France, but he was ardently hunting her alter ego down. He was a murderer who had killed her good friend Mike and an unfaithful husband who was dallying with her archrival.

She wiped the nascent tears from the corners of her coral eyes and took deep, steady breaths to console herself. It would be quick, then she could curl into a ball, and when she recovered from the shame, she would find enough evidence to lock him away and gain her freedom.

Blossom's frantic thoughts were put to a stop when she heard the door click open and heavy footsteps fall in. She spun around to face her imminent duty, but when she locked eyes with her husband, he looked nothing like she had expected.

The redhead had prepared herself to bed a cheater, traitor and murderer; what she wasn't ready to see was a handsome man who gazed lovingly at her and softened, seeing her watery eyes.

Brick too was taken by surprise. In the minutes preceding his entry, he had wondered how the seductress would complete her task. He had even taken the precaution of removing from her room every item that could be used as a weapon, lest her murderous tendencies reappear later that night when he had fallen asleep. The last thing he thought he would encounter was a vulnerable, visibly trembling bride who couldn't be feigning terror. She looked genuinely afraid, something that sharply contrasted with the duke's preconceived notion of her brazenly improper character.

"Love, what's wrong?" Brick whispered, reaching out to touch her elbow. She recoiled slightly at contact, but quickly recovered.

Blossom merely shook her head to deny his implication and took a weak step into his arms. She couldn't bear this; she thought she was strong enough to handle Brick, but with such conflicting thoughts and a foreboding feeling pooling her stomach, she just wanted it all to be over.

The duke could feel her shaking and wrapping his hands around her waist, he dropped his head to the crook of her neck and buried himself in her soft, fluffy curls. Inhaling her enticing rose scent, he murmured, "There's nothing to fear," he consoled her. Even if she denied it, Brick knew she was terrified.

She tepidly nodded in assent.

Tiring of her submissive demeanor, Brick grabbed her dainty hands with his own and forced her to look him in the eye, "I won't hurt you. I could never hurt you, Blossom," he said softly, but resolutely. He let out a triumphant smile as her eyes regained some sparkle and she softened into his embrace. In the rush of the moment, he didn't stop to think twice at how effortlessly his reassuring words spilled out. He hadn't the time to concoct them, either; they were his true sentiments.

"I know," the redhead murmured, resting her head on his expansive, chiseled chest. "I just..." her words trailed off, a sudden constriction clutching her heart.

"You what?" Brick brushed a stray strand of hair from her porcelain face as he gazed into her wide coral eyes, wanting to know her thoughts.

"I-I know Princess saw you during dinner," Blossom blurted, unable to hold back what at the moment, had been hurting her the most. Eyes wide when she realized what she had said, the redhead immediately looked down, contrite. She shouldn't interfere with her husbands affairs, extramarital or not; as much as she detested the chauvinist rules of society, she knew her place and knew how egregious it was to break them.

"Did you hear what she said?" the duke looked down at her curiously, a smirk finding its way to his lips. "I never pegged you for the jealous type," he said lightly, causing Blossom to flush.

Surprised that he had simply teased her for her wholly inappropriate statement, the duchess turned scarlet. She stuttered, not out of fear this time but rather shock, "I-I didn't. And I'm not jealous. You're free to dally with whomever you'd like," the redhead said the latter statement almost imperceptibly quietly.

"I think you've misinterpreted what happened, but I will have to enlighten you tomorrow," Brick stated breezily. Turning his attention to her other remark, he added, "Am I free to take you?" he asked, his crimson eyes sparkling, finally taking in her voluptuous figure. It should have been the first thing he noticed, but her damn tears had torn his attention away from the important things.

Blossom had turned rosier than the color of her eyes and nodded demurely, her long lashes still looking down.

"I care about you, love. I hope you know that," Brick said gently before finally catching her lips in a kiss.

Comforted and distracted by his loving words, Blossom found herself eager to reciprocate his gesture. She let out a moan as he nibbled on her lower lip and was happy to oblige him by softly opening her mouth for him to taste. He pulled her closer and pressed up against hard, sinewy muscle, Blossom's nimble fingers trailed down his chest and herculean arms before reaching for his auburn locks while his strong hands explored her sublime curves.

Breathless, Blossom pulled away from the sensual kiss to take in a much-needed breath of air. Gently resting her head on his sculpted shoulder and slowly looking up to see his ardent features alight in pre-coital passion, the redhead whispered, "I care about you too, Brick."

"Well, then what are we waiting for?" he asked huskily as he reached under her knees to pull her into his arms before carrying her in her bridal position to their welcoming wedding bed.

...

I'd love it if you left me a review! Happy New Year! C:


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **I got tired of doing disclaimers. Refer back to one of the older chapters if you need proof that I don't own anything :P

This was pretty tough to write, but I hope you like it. I put a lot of effort into this one C:

...

Brick let out a soft groan as he opened up an eyelid in response to the sunlight penetrating his sleepy gaze. Eyebrows furrowing at his unfamiliar surroundings, he smirked when he recollected the night before. Turning to his side ever so gently, he let out a genuine smile at seeing his wife gently sleeping, looking resplendent even with her disheveled locks and dainty hands draped over her husband.

If didn't know better, when he saw her quaking in fear the night before, he would've thought she was uneasy for simply virginal reasons. Brick knew that she was a conniving traitor who had more likely than not used her enticing charms to seduce important men, or at least that's what he had convinced himself of. As the night progressed, however, he only saw a nervous, distressed woman who was endearingly insecure of her husband's fidelity and her own ability to fulfill her conjugal responsibility.

He had murmured assuaging words of encouragement to her in effort to calm her nerves; granted, he had spurted them in the throes of passion and didn't think twice about their sincerity, but reflecting on them now, he grimaced.

_There's nothing to fear... I won't hurt you. I could never hurt you, Blossom... I care about you, love._

It would have been dastardly to lie so blatantly to bed a woman, even if she was his wife, but somehow, Brick felt even worse when he realized that his words weren't empty. He had meant each and every one of them. The Blossom he thought he had discovered and the Blossom he actually knew, the one who never ceased to surprise him, were disparate people and that discrepancy unnerved him. It would have been exponentially simpler had she been a transparently wicked woman, but she wasn't; and Brick was starting to believe the truth behind her kindness, grace and innocence.

He had wrong earlier too; her reluctance last night _had _stemmed from her virginity for up until then, she had indeed been a virgin. The fact that Brick was the only man to have ever bedded her delighted him, but bothered him at the same time. It only went to prove that his judgement of her had been hasty; the duke had been wrong to assume she was a seductress.

But whoever she truly was, Brick knew he couldn't see her beautiful neck hanging at the gallows. He couldn't send his wife there, even if she turned out to be the greatest traitor in the country's history. He didn't know why, but he couldn't fathom the idea of life without her. He had only known her for a week, so such sentiment surprised him, but it was the truth.

Still, he wasn't maudlin enough to believe she felt the same way. He knew she was hiding something and until he exhumed what it was, he would have to stay two feet ahead of her. The Duke of York couldn't let his insidious wife get the better of him, especially when his country was at stake.

Groaning, he knew he couldn't spend the entire day languoring in bed and he knew it best to leave before the chit woke up. Gingerly untangling himself from her, careful not to wake her, the duke stepped out of bed, quickly redressed and returned to his quarters to prepare for the day ahead.

...

As her maids pulled out the nuptial sheets from her bed and swiftly returned the room to its original state, the new duchess couldn't tear her eyes away from the mirror on her vanity. She was actually _glowing_. Blossom always thought that women exaggerated the effect a blissful wedding night could have, but here she stood, radiant and basking in post-coital buoyancy.

Swallowing, she knew she couldn't let Brick's stupendous effect on her distract her from her mission. He had been such a perfect gentleman the night before that Blossom found it impossible to believe him guilty of crimes she knew he was responsible for. He was a brilliant actor and if Blossom was to succeed, she needed to grow impervious to his charms and insidious smirk and his effect on her as a woman. Still, she couldn't deny her disappointment at waking up to an empty bed.

"Milady, are you ready to break your fast?" one of the maids bowed before asking her matron. She, along with a few others, had drawn Blossom a bath and helped her dress for the new day. While these servants weren't the same she was accustomed to, they gave the redhead nothing to complain about as they were deft at their duties. The staff at her new manor closely resembled that of her old home, save the host of guards that Brick had meticulously posted around the mansion.

Turning her thoughts back to reality, Blossom nodded in response and followed the maid down the expansive hallway and spiraling staircase before entering the dining hall. It looked rather empty compared to the night before, but the redhead wasn't unhappy as she took a seat beside the table's only other occupant, her brunet brother-in-law.

"Hello, Butch," she greeted warmly. "How are you this morning?"

The green-eyed man simply nodded slowly, carefully studying her. When it seemed like he couldn't find a hint of what he was looking for, he jovially replied, "Quite well. I would ask the same of you, but I saw my brother earlier and I think it's quite clear that you're both doing extremely well."

Blossom flushed, unaccustomed to this good-natured ribbing of his, though it did resemble Buttercup's manner in some ways. "You met my sister, Buttercup at the wedding, did you not?" she smiled wryly. "You two are awfully alike."

His emerald eyes widened at the mention of her sister and he quickly averted his gaze to the austere headline article before him. Muttering a curse under his breath, he looked up to see his sister-in-law gazing at him curiously. Clearing his throat, he responded, "That's odd considering how similar you are to my brother, my lady," his grin returned.

At the mention of her new husband, "Where _is_ the duke?" the duchess asked demurely, letting her lashes flutter downward. "I didn't get to see him this morrow."

"I believe Brick went to meet his cavalrymen and then a few of his earls and lesser-lords. Probably the king too since he's forced to partake in those awful House of Lords sessions," Butch rattled off a few of Brick's duties. "I told him that he ought to stay in bed with you, but the man's dedicated to his work," he shook his head morosely.

Blossom's eyes widened at the mention of her husband's responsibilities, realizing for the first time that he held as much, if not more, power than her own father. It would incredibly easy for him to bring down the country from the inside, especially if he was so well-acquainted with the king. Butch's latter statement about the duke neglecting his conjugal duties had completely eluded her.

"I-I did not realize he worked with the king, his majesty," Blossom replied, surprised.

Butch merely grinned at her, "Well, of course. A duke and war hero like Brick ought to be acquainted with our fine king." Taking great pleasure in her ignorance of her husband's martial exploits, Butch proceeded to regale tales of the brothers' valiant deeds during their stint in Normandy, taking care to leave out the gory details, but reveling in the triumph of their victories.

Blossom listened intently to her husband's war stories, a rush of pride engulfing her British heart upon hearing how he helped defeat the French years prior. And while she was exuberant to know the extent of her husband's heroics, learning of his martial prowess made his sudden change in loyalty all the more terrifying.

...

"We still haven't found her, but she has no trouble finding you," Mitch chuckled as he handed a sealed letter to his duke before stepping out.

Brick immediately recognized the scarlet seal to be Lady B's and eagerly tore it to read what she had to tell him.

_My Lord-_

_I have a most disturbing piece of news to tell you and I beg that you keep what I am about to confide in you confidential from the others in your department. I think I know the identity of your traitor- the one who murdered my dear friend Mike Believe- and it shocks me. A member of the House of Lords, a supposedly patriotic and decorated war hero, is behind this heinous crime and I fear that I am next on his list._

_My recent marriage has put me a strategic position to investigate this possibility, and I regret that I cannot reveal my identity for that will surely incriminate this villain. As you conceal your identity for the safety of those around you, I must do the same. I fear that your knowledge of my identity will put you in a dangerous position since I am confident that this murderer is eagerly searching for me. _

_I hope to solve this mystery soon, before this traitor and murderer gives France a dangerous edge over our wonderful Britain. I concede that this task is extremely difficult, but I promise that I will do everything in my power to protect my motherland._

_Take care,_

_Lady B_

His eyes scanned the paper once more, then again to confirm their words. If Lady B was right, like she almost always was, then the traitor was much closer to him and much more powerful than Brick had expected. He grimaced. Pulling out his drawer and carefully placing her letter in a pile with many like it, Brick mulled over her words carefully. He would have to take a new approach and study each questionable lord in the house to assist his informant's quest.

Frowning deeply, Brick stood up and shook off his thoughts. He would return to them at another time. Now, he had a more pressing matter to attend to.

Mike Believe's Funeral.

...

Descending from his spiraling staircase clad entirely in black, the duke called for his phaeton to be brought around. He had returned home to change into appropriate funeral attire and while he had encountered his two brothers, he had yet to see his new wife. Frowning at the possibilities of what the wily chit could be doing, the redhead shook his head and muttered a few curses to himself. He wouldn't admit his disappointment at not seeing her, but perhaps distance from her would a boon, allowing him to order his thoughts and decide on the course of action he would partake with her.

Fate, however, had different plans in store for him. As soon as he entered the foyer, his gaze caught sight of his lovely bride dressed in an ebony gown, her hair demurely rolled into a simple coif and a despondent expression gracing her countenance. When she caught sight of him, her eyes widened in surprise and she attempted to avert her gaze.

"It is hardly appropriate for a newlywed duchess to wear such mournful attire," Brick commented coolly as he approached her. He wondered why his incalculable wife had chosen such drab clothing when she seemed so content the night before. Her sudden change in demeanor upset him and no matter how he felt about her, he would find out what caused the egregious shift in her behavior.

Eyes hardening at his brusque remark, Blossom carefully responded, conviction rather than apprehension in her eyes. "My lord, couldn't I say the same about you?"

"Dear lady," Brick narrowed his crimson eyes, not unaware of her cold tone and reserved appellation, as he responded, "I am going to a funeral this eve. What, pray tell, is your excuse?" he asked dryly.

Her pink eyes widened again, but she replied without hesitation. "I, too, am paying my last respects to a dear friend," her expression softened. "I am sure you have heard of Mike Believe's gruesome murder," she added, a twinge of bitterness in her words. Of course she knew he was responsible for the death, but she had not anticipated him attending the last rites.

Unbeknownst to her, Brick was having similar thoughts. Thinking her to be guilty of his murder, he didn't understand the pain and sadness behind her eyes. Did she regret her hand in his death? Perhaps there could be redemption for her.

"Then we shall share a ride there," Brick murmured, stepping closer to her and enveloping her in his stalwart arms.

She melted into him immediately. Her heart wrenched and she tried to hold back tears; she tried not to give into his warmth, but in such a vulnerable state, she lacked the necessary strength to pull away. He offered the comfort that she desperately needed and seeing the pained look beneath his gaze made her question the assumption of his role in Mike's death. Perhaps she had been hasty to mentally accuse him of the heinous crime. It was apparent that he was hurting as much as she was.

Indeed, it was apparent that they needed to take a closer look at each other and address a few disparate assumptions that had the potential to tear them apart.

...

_Two Weeks Later..._

...

A light sleeper, Brick immediately shot up in bed once he heard a soft patter that sounded like it was going down the hallway. He had visited his wife's chambers earlier that evening, but decided to return to his own afterwards out of curiosity. Every night for the past two weeks, they had slept together the entire night, Brick taking extra caution to make sure she stayed by his side the whole time. He figured that his wife did most of her traitorous activity at night since he had found her at midnight in that tavern and by holding her beside him, he was preventing her from fulfilling her duties.

That night, he decided to give her a little freedom and see where she would take it. Literally. He had given his guards the night off to allow her an easy escape and it hadn't been long since he had left that she was already slipping out of the manor.

Brick smirked as he pulled on a cloak over his casual, peasant garb and carefully listening to the receding footsteps, decided it would be safe to follow. The duke was at an advantage, for he knew the house better than her, but he was amazed at how well she navigated out to the courtyard in complete darkness. Staying a comfortable distance away from her, he shrouded himself in the shadows and carefully watched her every move.

...

Blossom was nervous, sneaking out of her new home for the very first time, oddly not encountering any of the ubiquitous York guards. But it was all for the better since she had pressing matters to attend. For the past two weeks, the duchess had languored with her husband, doing little to support her country. While she had discovered many refreshing things about the duke, including his wide and versatile skills both inside and out of the bedroom, she had yet to discover the extent of his treachery.

Refusing to be blinded by his apparent sadness at Mike's funeral or his tenderness towards her, Blossom had stubbornly convinced herself not to fall in love with his ruse. If he could fool the ton into thinking he was madly in love with her with ease, he could very well do the same to her. And Blossom wouldn't stand for it. Unlike many of her contemporaries, she had a purpose in life beyond domesticity and she refused to fail.

The redhead pulled her hood tighter, craning her neck behind her when the oddest feeling struck her. She felt like someone was following her, but shook it off when she saw nothing behind her but darkness. When she returned her wits back to the road ahead of her, a poor urchin asleep on the steps of an arcane building caught her attention. Furrowing her brows in compassion, she pulled out a single gold crown from her pocket and gingerly placed it in the child's open hand. She smiled, imagining the exuberance that would appear on his face when he awoke in the morning.

She continued her trek until she reached a dilapidated thatched hut that exuded the stench of alcohol. Crinkling her nose, the redhead carefully opened the door and stepped into the establishment.

...

Brick kept his eyes on the sneaky duchess as she entered the tavern, but stayed outside instead of directly following her in. The night was surprisingly quiet and Brick could hear her dulcet voice through the thin walls. He crept around the perimeter until he found a crude slab of window glass and peered in. There, in the dimly illuminated room, stood his disguised wife with a bag of coins and a voluptuous heavily made up older brunette who looked at her impassively.

"Tell me about your favorite customer, Madame Goodlady," she said softly, but the authority in her voice was not unnoticed.

"Why should I? I don't do business with your likes, wench," the other lady sniffed as she stroked her loose ebony locks. "You're welcome to provide your services here, but that is where your welcome ends."

"I am not a desperate, bawdy woman who must resort to such survival tactics, Madame," the redhead replied tightly. "I simply seek out some information that I know you can provide. Now, tell me about that odd man who frequents your brothel," she demanded as she tossed a few sparkling coins onto the woman's table.

"They're all odd, milady," the buxom woman's demeanor quickly changed. "Perhaps you could be more specific?"

"The one who always requests your French girl. I know about his involvement in questionable activity, but I am not privy as to his name. Sedusa, will you care to enlighten me?" the duchess narrowed her eyes.

Sedusa's expression fell, "Alas, milady, I do not know his name. Aye, I know whom you refer to and mayhaps I shall collect your information if you were to return at a later time."

Studying her carefully, Blossom sighed. She was telling the truth, "Fair enough. I thank you for your time," she said graciously before taking out a final gold crown and exiting the brothel.

As soon as her silhouette disappeared, Brick turned away and frowned in confusion. He saw that his wife was a tough negotiator who seemed to have a clear purpose in visiting the brothel- to extract English information. She was after a certain man who made regular visits to this bawdy establishment, but who? His eyebrows furrowed as he frown deepened; searching for a man of questionable morals in the middle of the night secured the notion that she was indeed treacherous, but graciously giving poor English children in need a few crowns wasn't something that greedy, conniving, evil women did.

The redheaded duke shook his head as he slowly returned to his manor on foot. His wife was an enigma and he would discover her, even if it killed him.

...

Blossom let out a soft moan as she awoke, raising her hands above her head to stretch away her grogginess.

For the first time since the wedding, she had been able to sneak out and make a few inquiries about some leads earlier that night. She knew that her husband was part of the conspiracy, but she needed to piece together the other traitors as well in order to stop France's underhanded attack on Britain. There were at least two other men involved, that much she knew, but before she could turn them over to the proper authorities, she needed to discover their identities. As Lady B, she was in contact with the head of the Foreign Embassy and in these tumultuous times, she knew that he was her only ally.

"Good morning, beautiful," a husky voice rumbled from beside her, breaking her reverie.

The redhead's eyes widened as she shot up in surprise, pulling her sheets over her translucent chemise. Her neck snapped to the side and she was shocked to see her husband, casually laying beside her on the bed.

"B-Brick," she stuttered, mentally recalling his departure late last night before she slipped out. When had he returned to her chambers? Surely it hadn't been during her absence, she thought frantically. What if he knew that she had disappeared the night before and realized the truth? Would he really kill her? Unable to meet his gaze, she averted her eyes, "This is highly improper. What are you doing here? When did you come?"

Brick smirked at the irony of her frenetic statement on propriety since she was the one who had visited a brothel at midnight, but Blossom didn't see this reaction. He, of course, had returned after his wife did and upon his return to the manor, figured he would exact revenge for her deceit. The duke wasn't foolish enough to let his wife know that he knew the truth about her surreptitious crimes, but he figured that until he collected enough evidence to prove them, he would enjoy making her squirm.

"My dear, there is nothing improper about a duke visiting his besotted bride in the early hours of the morn. I just wished to start my day by seeing your beautiful face," Brick said smoothly with a smirk, gently pulling the comforter from her grasp so he could fully appreciate her glory.

At his compliment and his crimson eyes wandering dangerously below her apparently beautiful face, the pink-eyed duchess realized that she need not fret, but her blush remained. He didn't appear to have picked up on her nightly activities, so it seemed fair to surmise that she wasn't in trouble.

But to be safe, Blossom decided to take his mind off of the matter entirely, just in case. Quickly turning her gaze towards him, she smiled mischievously.

"Just my face, Brick?" the redhead looked up at him eagerly, batting her eyelashes innocently. She shifted her weight so that she was right beside him, her bare shoulder touching his, before leaning over him and tracing the contours of his strong jaw with her freshly painted fingernails. "There's nothing else you'd like to see?" she purred as she straddled him.

The duke chuckled, pleasantly surprised at her sudden change in temperament. Smirking, he pulled her in for an ardent kiss, content to start off his day so enjoyably.

...

After their morning romance, Brick had reluctantly left to meet with the House of Lords and Blossom had dressed, broken her fast and then made a few visits to some of the staff around the manor. She hadn't seen either of her brothers-in-law that morning and deciding to take advantage of the situation, she made a sharp turn and slipped into her husband's study.

Blossom hadn't been there since their wedding night when she had overheard his eager pursuit of her alter ego and Princess' advances. Frowning, she tried to push unpleasant thoughts from her mind as she entered the room. Even though her husband had looked at her insecurity with amusement and promised to disclose what he had discussed with her rival the next day, he never did. But Brick's ardor in her bedroom was hardly grounds for an extramarital affair... He couldn't be bedding that foul woman on the side, right?

The redhead sighed, shaking her head. It shouldn't matter to her. She didn't like Brick. At least, that's what she had been trying to convince herself for the past few weeks. She was using him to extract information so she could incriminate his treachery and save her country. She constantly had to remind herself not to let his dazzling gaze and complacent smirk seduce her from completing her task.

Carefully stepping to his desk, Blossom noticed how neat and organized it seemed; in fact, there wasn't a single stray paper on it. She sat in his leather chair to then examine the contents of his drawers. Surely he was hiding something in there.

Pulling open the first one, she noticed a file with a few neatly stacked papers. The first was a map of London with a few red marks scattered across the midtown. Blossom's coral eyes widened as she recognized the pinpointed locations to be places that Lady B had recently visited in the past few months. Brick had been studying her carefully and seeing his notes on her, the redhead quickly understood how close he was to discovering her secret. She would have to be much more covert about her midnight appointments now.

Blossom was about to reach for the next paper when she heard the door creak open and footsteps follow. Instinctively, she wanted to jump up and renounce her probing through her husband's papers, but her experience had taught her that doing that would be the easiest way to be caught red-handed. Instead, she coolly collected herself and looked up at the intruder, fervently hoping it wasn't Brick.

She let out a sigh of relief when it wasn't.

"Boomer, hi," the duchess greeted her blond brother-in-law awkwardly.

"Blossom... What are you doing here?" the blue-eyed man looked at her quizzically.

"I..." she drawled, not sure how to answer his question without incriminating herself, "I'm planning a surprise for the duke! I just wanted to learn a few things about him before, that's all," she lied smoothly as she returned the documents back to where they belonged to show she meant no harm.

His eyes widened in understanding and he grinned, "How did you know that his birthday's coming up?"

The redhead grinned and nodded quickly, "Exactly! It's going to be a great, big birthday surprise!" she exclaimed, standing up and walking towards the blond. "But you mustn't tell him I was in here, alright? That would completely ruin the surprise," she told him carefully, assessing to see if he actually believed the verisimilitude.

Boomer nodded eagerly, following behind her as she exited the study. Blossom mentally cheered at not giving herself away to the blond and smiled innocently at the guards posted around the manor, reassuring them that she had done nothing wrong.

After a few moments of silence as they walked down the empty hall, he started, "Blossom, may I ask you a question?"

The duchess quickly turned around to face him, her eyes alight because of her clever cover-up a few minutes prior. Seeing the serious expression on her normally jovial friend, her smile faltered. She nodded softly, motioning for him to proceed.

"Does your sister... Does Bubbles- Is she... Does she have a- Would she be... I-" the blond stuttered nervously, anxiously trying to piece together his words.

The redhead grinned, immediately understanding the reason behind his anxiety. Briefly, she wondered if she still would've fooled him had his mind not been consumed with more pressing matters. "While I believe you ought to ask my father before you court her, you have my blessings, Boomer."

Eyes wide in surprise at her fastidious intuition and unexpected kindness, Boomer was frozen in place, his thoughts digressing to her effulgent blonde sister.

...

"Your highness," the archduke Dexter bowed gracefully before his host. "What may I be assistance of this fine afternoon?"

"Oh, Dexter," the amber-eyed termagant tittered as she motioned for him to take a seat. "Do call me Princess. I have a proposition for you," she said throatily, leaning towards him suggestively.

Dexter swallowed at being in such close proximity to the royal, but dared not show distaste and offend the king's daughter. He raised his eyebrow in curiosity, "Please continue," he said politely as he took a sip of tea.

"As an archduke, you must have everything you could ever want," Princess started off breezily, "But tell me, there must be something else you long for," she said huskily.

The redhead cleared his throat as he adjusted his spectacles, starting to understand the implication behind her words, "Surely you don't mean what I think you mean."

"I think you understand," she smiled wickedly. "I have a host of suitors, Dexter, but none with a title as lofty as yours. And surely you have none with a title like mine?"

Dexter grinned, his thoughts starting to swirl at the possibilities. A new title, riches to fund his ventures, more power in court and an opening to the king... The archduke would be foolish to even contemplate turning down her offer.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Ask me!" she demanded, growling in impatience.

Immediately kneeling, Dexter took Princess's hand into his own and unctuously started, "My dear Princess, would you do me the honor of becoming my archduchess? Will you marry me?"

Her squeal could be heard from the other side of town, but they both knew their happiness stemmed from something much different than love.

Their imminent marriage now meant money, power, and best of all, revenge.

...

Now that my winter break has come to an end, I regret to warn you that updates will come much less quickly nowadays. I will try to write when I can, but I can't promise regularity.

Buuut reviews make me really happy and I can write lots when I'm happy... So review! Thanks C:


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Guess who's back? This girl!

I've been gone for a while, I know. My writing is so sporadic with my crazy life, but I do hope you enjoy this update and other ones that may follow soon! (Hopefully!). I was actually reading back through this the other day and I'm really proud to see how far I've come in my writing. I'm a little rusty, but hopefully this new chapter is up to par with the older ones.

And stayed tuned- I've got a neat little surprise for you at the end of the chapter!

...

"My dear, I'm normally not a fan of surprises," the duke said tightly beneath his breath, flickering his gaze to his wife who sat beside him. Lowering his glass from the toast he had just raised and bringing the sweet nectar to his lips, he didn't bother to suppress a smirk at his wife's sudden pallor.

"I'm terribly sorry, Brick," she replied contritely. "I didn't mean for this little feast to get so out of hand," she murmured, clenching her napkin in her fists.

In her rush to apologize, the normally perspicacious duchess didn't pick up on the amusement in her husband's voice. Her nightly activities had heightened her senses and her mind was on full alert, especially around her traitorous duke. She didn't dare provoke him for fear of raising his ire, more so now since she was so close to solving the rest of the mystery. She needed to keep a low profile and act the docile wife for only a little while longer. She would have to share a bed with this villain for only a few weeks more before she was free.

Sneaking a surreptitious glance towards her copper-locked husband, she wasn't feeling very eager for this freedom. If anything, she wanted to stay in his arms as long as she could. The past few months of marital bliss had introduced an entirely new world to Blossom and if she was being completely honest with herself, she didn't want to leave it. As much as it pained her to admit, she loved her husband. But the only thing she loved more than him was her country, and for that reason alone would she do the right thing.

"_Normally_. Tonight is an exception, however, since I have you at my side," Brick amended, breaking her reverie, mirth sparkling in his crimson eyes. He softened, noticing his wife's attempts to shroud her discomfort. Lowering his voice, he asked, "Are you feeling alright, love?"

At the sound of his favorite petname for her, Blossom felt an uncontrollable surge of heat flare up her neck. He treated her so gently and he made her feel so special that she had the hardest time fathoming how he could responsible for so many English deaths. Her heart said that he couldn't while her mind knew that he was accountable, throwing the two organs in constant turmoil with one another.

"I'm great," Blossom lied. She looked up at her husband, "Are you having a nice birthday, Brick?" she asked with a dazzling grin.

"I am, actually," he replied, taking another sip of his alcohol. "And I'm anticipating that it'll only get better once we can get out of this crowd and into my bedchamber," his baritone voice rumbled, sending delightful shivers down her spine.

The petite redhead just shook her head at his remark and opened her delicate mouth to retort, but was swiftly interrupted by the clanging of a glass across the table.

Everyone turned their attention towards the blond couple who had just stood up with their glasses raised.

"I'd like to raise a toast, first and foremost to my eldest brother, Brick. Many years ago on this day, the world was introduced to one of the finest dukes this country has ever seen," the blond looked at the duke and he nodded gratefully in response. Boomer looked to the breathtaking blonde beside him and let out an involuntary grin, "But I'd also like to raise a toast to my beautiful fiancée, Bubbles. You make me feel like the luckiest man alive," he gazed at her lovingly.

The crowd erupted in applause and Blossom grinned at the couple's announcement. For the past few months, the entire ton was privy to their courtship and their two blue-eyed siblings were finally taking the next step.

"To the happy couple, then," her noble husband responded and the rest of the room followed. Brick pulled his wife closer and she let out an involuntary giggle, "Who said I was talking about our siblings, my dear?" he whispered, his lips grazing over a delicate ear.

...

The petite redhead pulled her heavy cloak closer to her as she stepped out of the tavern and into the moonlight. She whipped her head around, having the oddest feeling that someone was behind her, but the darkness revealed nothing. She sighed and shook her head, making her way back to York Manor.

Lady B had almost discovered the identity of the Foreign Embassy traitor's accomplices in recent months and she was a few secret meetings from finding the truth once and for all. In all of her investigation, however, she never once found her husband's name or scent around any suspicious evidence. Not a single trace. She had underestimated his capabilities; he had indeed proved to be as careful as she was if Blossom hadn't found a single thing to connect him to the heinous crimes he had committed. She had narrowed his abettors to a few she suspected were in the department, but with nothing tangible as of yet, she hadn't disclosed her intuition to the embassy head.

Biting her lip, Blossom wished she knew more about the man she corresponded with so frequently. He seemed so strong, stable and intelligent... And noble. No one in her entire acquaintance of the ton seemed to fit his description. Who could be the mysterious leader of the foreign embassy?

A thump behind her pulled Blossom from her woolgathering and the petite redhead spun around, her eyes wide and alert. Two burly men stood there, leering at her and her pink eyes darkened. She could easily handle two oafs like these. She assumed a fighting stance and was about to hit a pressure point when a few more men joined the first two. She paled. There was no way she could take on all of the men, especially when she was backed into a corner alley. Blossom bit her lip and wondered if she should attempt reason with the churls.

Before she could try evasive action however, the approaching men soon tumbled to the ground in a flurry of punches and she only had to blink before they had all fallen from sight. Blossom frowned. She never needed help. She scanned the area for her savior to make sure he didn't pose a greater threat than the common criminals did.

He did. But for quite different reasons.

"Blossom," an ever-so-familiar voice growled. All color left the redhead's face. Blanching at recognition of the voice, she weakly turned around to face him. Swallowing, she knew she had to hold up a strong front.

"Brick," she said breezily, putting on a false confidence she did not feel. "I was wondering when you'd finally come around."

He glowered and the stone-cold glare in his blood red eyes sent a chilling sensation down her spine. He looked -gulp- murderous. Taking two large steps towards her, the taller redhead grabbed her arm and wordlessly dragged her back to their home in Mayfield Square. Her mind was in a daze as she limply followed him back to the manor. In a few fleeting moments, he had entered through the back door and pulled her upstairs to her chambers.

He loosened his iron grip on her arm as they approached her door. Slamming the door open and wrenching her inside, Brick finally locked eyes with his wife. His crimson orbs held a forlorn, distant look and he merely shook his head.

"Why, Blossom? Why?" he murmured as he stepped away and turned his back so he wouldn't have to face her.

"I have to protect my country," she whispered, voice cracking. A flurry of emotions swirled within her at that moment- shame from recklessly ensconcing herself in such a precarious position, gratitude towards her husband for coming to her rescue, confusion about his motives, sorrow for their relationship's imminent failure and fear for her own fate.

Brick merely shook his head, raking a single hand through his disheveled copper locks. Shutting his eyes and muttering a few curses beneath his breath, he stepped out of her room without another word. The heavy door slammed shut and the resounding silence filled the room.

Blossom's lip quivered and she stumbled to her bed, where she promptly curled into a ball and refused to cry, no matter how many hot tears pooled in her eyes.

...

It had been a week since Brick had swooped in to save his imprudent wife, a week since he let her know that he was cognizant of her _extracurricular_ activities. Since she now knew, he had expected her to do away with him and because of it, he had been extremely careful lately. He also painstakingly avoided her; if he met with those big, pink eyes just once, he knew his resolve would falter.

It had been months and he hadn't sensed a change in her sentiments. Around him, she appeared loving and he could've easily been fooled by her affections toward him if he were a lesser man. But she hadn't given up on spying and with the British death count racking up, Brick knew she wouldn't quit anytime soon.

With the matter of his wife plaguing him on one hand, the issue of the traitor was held in the other. Brick was still nowhere near discovering his identity and while Lady B had been helpful recently, she didn't know who it was either.

A dark thought popped into his mind. What if he couldn't find the traitor because _he_ was it? Could he unwittingly be giving away national intel to the French? Brick frowned. Blossom was mistress of the house, which allowed her access to all quarters, so she could easily visit his office when he wasn't around, should the need arise. But Brick didn't bring many articles of value home, save for a few letters he might need to further analyze. Nothing of national importance could be pilfered from his drawers. And besides, he would know if someone had been through his items of value. His desk was meticulously disorganized; everything had a place and he knew what that place was, even if it wasn't evident to anyone else.

Brick was playing a dangerous game, one that involved not only his mind, but his heart as well. He needed to make sure his reckless wife didn't destroy his country, but he wasn't sure how he could accomplish that now without threatening her safety. The last thing he wanted to see was her pretty neck hang, but the exigency of the current British situation would force him to place his personal feelings to the side.

If Blossom was really responsible for what he knew she had to be, not even Brick could save her.

...

"Mitchelson, are you ready?" the redhead smiled grimly.

"Of course I'm ready to execute the final phase, your grace," the brunet replied cockily. "All we've got to do is detain the duke and Lady B so there's no obstacles to collecting the necessary information."

"Good. I'm glad you understand," the archduke grinned. "Once the British army falls, the French will easily seize control once again."

"And we'll get paid handsomely, right Dexter?"

"Of course," he said triumphantly. "I'm not giving up my archducal wealth without reason. Once the current royalty are taken out, we'll receive tenfold of what we have in return for our allegiance."

"What of your betrothed, the princess?" Mitch asked quizzically.

Dexter scoffed, "The chit is a numbskull. She's inadvertently been financing the ruin of her own country for months," he laughed.

"Do you think York knows he's married to Lady B?" the brunet asked randomly.

Dexter rolled his eyes, "Of course he does. You've seen him always following her during her nightly forays. It's almost sickening how much they care for each other," he spat coldly. "I'm just glad we discovered Lady Blossom's highly indecorous activities."

"I wonder how the ton will react when they find out?" Mitch wondered.

"They'll never the chance," Dexter cackled. "Britain will have fallen before they know it."

...

"Buttercup, dear, you seem so pale. What's wrong?" Blossom asked gently as she took her sister's hands into her own.

"I could say the same about you, Blossom. You've lost weight," Buttercup replied. Crinkling her brows, "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," Blossom rushed, answering quickly. She had never put her sisters in unnecessary danger by telling them about her alter ego, Lady B, and she wouldn't start now. Her pink eyes darkened as she changed the topic of their conversation, "I heard a nasty rumor that Greene's no doubt cooked up. What a rakeshell. He has the nerve to tell the ton that he's engaged to _you_! How preposterous."

Buttercup's sudden silence said it all.

"It's not true, is it?" Blossom pleaded. "Not that man!"

Her brunette sister just nodded her head weakly, "That's what I came to tell you about. He proposed and I accepted. We'll wed immediately."

"Why?" the redhead whispered. "You're so much better than that, Buttercup," she murmured.

"We're very happy," the green-eyed sister forced a smile.

"No you're not," the duchess narrowed her eyes. "I know you well enough to know when you're not telling the truth. Why are you marrying him? You're young and beautiful and you'll find many more men who want your hand," she tried reason. "Anyone but Ace Greene!"

"He is an earl," Buttercup replied. At her elder sister's penetrating gaze, she sighed. "I can't be happy with anyone, Blossom. Not anymore. I've made a terrible mistake," she looked up at her sister, eyes brimming with tears.

Blossom was shocked to see her strong, invulnerable sister so broken. "We can easily remedy any situation, dear," she whispered encouragingly.

"Not this one," Buttercup shook her head violently. "I'm with child."

Blossom's eyes widened, "Ace's child?" she asked, shocked.

Her sister laughed sardonically. "Of course not. I can pass it off as my husband's if I wed quickly. He's the only man that'll marry me on such short notice."

"What about the father? Won't he wed you? And what if the child grows up to be spitting image of him? What then?" the pink-eyed sister pressed, worried for Buttercup's future. "This is too reckless, Buttercup."

"I know," she shook her head sadly. "The father made it clear he won't wed. And don't worry, my child can't look like him."

Blossom looked at her sister quizzically. "What does that mean?"

Buttercup's lip quivered as she quickly stood, "Don't worry about me, Blossom. I'll be fine. I always am," she mumbled before hurriedly rushing out.

Too frozen to chase after her sister, a foreboding feeling set over the redhead as she watched her go.

...

Brick looked at the spread of papers and letters scattered on the desks in his office at the foreign embassy and a grim look set itself on his countenance. Mumbling to himself, he took a sip of his tea and his mouth puckered. Shaking his head, he set the cup back down and made a mental note to fire the new tea brewer the embassy must've hired. That was quite the most distasteful tea he had ever had in his life.

Gripping his temples, the duke bore a hole through the map in front of him, staring at the pattern of French intelligence that had manifested around the city. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed in realization. He was baffled why the thought didn't occur to him earlier. He was familiar with all of these French haunts for only one reason-

"Mitchelson," Brick growled.

"Took you long enough," the brunet scoffed as he stepped into the office.

The redhead quickly stood up to attack the traitor, but before he could get into a proper stance, his view grew hazy and the world started to darken around him. His throat constricted, "That tea. You-" his thought remained incomplete, as his virile body hit the ground with a thunderous smack.

"Nasty stuff," Mitchelson shook his head as he dumped the remaining tea into a potted plant, grinning to himself.

...

Blossom bit her lip as she walked down Bond Street, clutching her purchases to her closely. After that encounter with her sister, her mind was reeling and she knew she had to do something to stop Buttercup from making a terrible mistake.

"Your grace, the modiste is a block back," the maid behind her called out timidly.

Blossom sighed, "I've changed my mind. Will take my purchases back to York Manor? I have business I need to attend. _Alone__._"

"Are you sure?" she sputtered. "What will His Grace say?"

"He won't care," she said, her voice suddenly very small and far away. The maid looked at her for a moment before quickly scampering off.

Blossom rubbed her elbow absentmindedly. Brick wouldn't care. In fact, she was surprised she was still alive. He knew she was Lady B; he had to. Every turn she made the past week, she had expected something horrendous at the end of it. Every bite of food she ate at the manor made her wonder if it would be her last. Every step she took downstairs, her senses searched for someone attempting to push her down. She had skillfully avoided him since that fateful night, but she knew they could keep the pretense no longer.

She missed the easy camaraderie between them, the warm nights they shared in bed, his teasing smirk that never failed to elicit a blush... She had fallen hopelessly in love with Brick, but there was no hope for their relationship. Soon enough, one of them would be gone. Either he'd off her first, or if he didn't, he'd hang once she could collect necessary evidence.

And that wasn't even the least of her worries.

So lost in her thoughts, Blossom never noticed the sneaky sound of footsteps falling in line with her until it was too late.

"Your grace," the duchess narrowed her eyes at her unwelcome companion.

"You may still call me Dexter, of course," he replied. She frowned. "This is not indecent, my lady. A gentleman accompanying a lady in the city? Hardly worth talking about."

"An engaged gentlemen and a married lady," the petite redhead amended his thought.

"Ah, so we are," Dexter sighed.

"I'm quite busy today, Dexter. Please state your business and go," Blossom touched her forehead gently.

"No problem. It shan't even take two minutes," he said before abruptly stopping.

Blossom opened her mouth to respond, but closed it once she looked around at her surroundings. In her tired haze, she had just followed him into a seedier part of town- one she would never visit in broad daylight. It was odd seeing the streets so empty when they were normally lined with hoards of people. She bit her lip. Something was amiss here. But before she could collect herself and take leave of this place, Dexter had snuck behind her and she felt a foul-smelling cloth being pressed to her nose and mouth before she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

...

"You don't think it's a mistake to have those two together in the same cell, do you?" a muffled voice asked from outside the cell.

"Nonsense. There's nothing they can do now to thwart our plans," a familiar voice cackled. "Not even Lady B and the head of the foreign embassy stand in our way."

Blossom's head pounded as she slowly sat up. She felt cold, hard, grimy tile beneath her and her nose crinkled in disgust. She looked around the dark room to assess her surroundings, but a pair of crimson orbs had locked with her own. Her throat went dry.

"Brick, is that you?" she whispered, bringing her hands to her head in an effort to steady herself. "Where are we?" she whispered.

"Blossom, are you alright?" he asked tenderly, taking a stride towards her before kneeling so he could be at her level. Gingerly, he took her hands into his own and examined them for injury.

"I... I don't know. But what are _you _doing here? Shouldn't you be-"

_Not even Lady B and the head of the foreign embassy stand in our way._

She was Lady B... Did that make him...?

"Y-You lead the foreign embassy," she declared breathlessly. His eyes widened in affirmation. Blossom's jawed dropped. "Wh-Why didn't you tell me?" Her world started to spin. Her husband, Brick, the Duke of York, wasn't a traitor... He was the exact opposite. He was the patriot in charge of protecting the country's most important secrets.

"To be fair, you never told me you were Lady B," he said wryly. Shaking his head, "All of those surreptitious outings... Blossom, I had worried you were working for the French," he confessed, taking her into his arms.

"Oh, Brick. I-I thought the same thing!" Suddenly she burst out into laughter.

Her husband looked at her quizzically. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Quite! I've never been better!" she said in between laughs. Shaking her head, "For months, I've been worried that you'd kill me if you knew I was a British spy! I thought you had discovered last week when you caught me. I was paranoid, Brick! I was deathly afraid of falling in love with you because I was convinced you were helping the French and-"

"What did you say?" Brick cut her off, red eyes narrow.

"About...?" Blossom looked at him, eyebrows crinkled in confusion as she reviewed her last thoughts. Suddenly, she felt a hot blush creep to her countenance, "I love you, Brick," she murmured, her words barely audible.

But to Brick, they were the greatest sound in the world. "Blossom, I love you too."

...

Okay, I've got good news! I think some of you will enjoy this.

Upon my return to the PPG fanfiction community, I was accosted by a serious dearth in Reds fanfics! There's really not that many out there anymore and out of the new ones, half of them are in Spanish... And nothing against Spanish because it's a great language that I can speak moderately proficiently, but I really can't enjoy them if I'm frantically trying to translate. So to make up for this very grave lack of Reds stories, I'm hosting a CONTEST! Yes, you heard (erm, read) correctly!

For the duration of the summer, I'm encouraging PPG writers to write a **Summer Reds Oneshot**. Quite simple, actually. Your contest entry has to be primarily Reds, relate to the summer (summer sun, summer shopping, summer beaches, summer parties, summer vacations, summer camps, summer school, summer holidays- this is a _very _loose category!) and be a oneshot (though, if you wish to expand and make it all full-fledged fic, no one is stopping you!).

I'm hoping this will get the fandom interested in Reds again. If you'd like to join, all you have to do is write up a oneshot and put 'Summer Reds Contest' or something similar in the summary or author's note to let me and your other readers know what it's for. Or you can just PM me a link to the story-** it really doesn't matter what you do, as long as I know you've entered**! The deadline will be **Sunday, July 15nd **giving you almost two months to compose your entry.

Judging guidelines are simple as well. I'll put up a blind poll on my profile and everyone will get the chance to vote for their favorite oneshot. That'll account for half the score, and the other half will be my own opinion. From those results, I'll tally up points and **the winner will receive a Reds oneshot** by yours truly. The entire oneshot will be up to the winner; the only restriction is that it will be primarily Reds. Just tell me what you'd like and I'll whip up something nice for you! Length will vary based on the prompt, of course, but I like to think I'm a versatile writer who'll be able to handle the challenge.

So, in summary:

**Restrictions:** Must be Reds and related to the summer somehow, must be in English (sorry!), but no other rules about rating, length or genre! Just make sure you let me know you've entered!

**Deadline:** Sunday, July 15th

**Prize:** 1st place winner will receive a Reds oneshot of their choice (but if there are a lot of entries, I'm not against writing a prize for 2nd or even 3rd!).

Anyways, I do hope you consider entering. I like to keep it simple and not restrict your creative juices. I'll put this information on my profile so you don't have to flip back to a random chapter in a fanfic for the contest information. Please let me know if you have any questions! I won't bite C:

Oh, and REVIEW! It would totes make my day. Hope everyone's having a fabulous summer!


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** This chapter is super short... The truth is that there's not much left to this fic! But I hope you enjoy nonetheless (:

...

Discovering the truth had been the start of ineffable bliss for the two redheads. Instead of constantly doubting each other and keeping the other at a distance, they were finally free to love wholeheartedly. And more than that, they were finally a team. But as much as they'd love to stay in each other's arms, they knew they had to attend to their duty.

"Brick, how long have we been in here?" Blossom whispered, lifting her head from his chiseled chest to face him in the near-darkness.

"Too long," the duke said grimly as he shook his head. "Mitchelson got me early this afternoon and it's almost nightfall. Dexter brought you here soon after."

"We need to stop them," the smaller redhead voiced both of their concerns. But locked in this squalid dungeon with neither traitor in sight, their options seemed small. "What do you think they have planned?" she looked at her husband with wide eyes.

He frowned, his crimson eyes hard. "Wellington would've sent word of his troops by now. If they manage to get their hands on my correspondence, the French will know exactly where the British soldiers are, taking away our greatest advantage- surprise."

"Not if we beat them to it," Blossom suddenly straightened, her pink eyes glowing.

Seeing that she was in midst of formulating a plan, a smile tugged on the corner of her husband's mouth. "What are you thinking, love?"

"If we can beat them to the letter, we can switch it with false information. Dexter would hand off the correspondence to the French-"

"But they'll go to the location we specify, not the one where Wellington actually is. And we can warn Wellington and tell him to attack the French right there," Brick eagerly finished her thought, awed by her perspicacity.

"And put an end to this war once and for all," Blossom grinned.

"But first, we need to get out of here," Brick's countenance hardened. But then he smirked, "And I think I know how we'll do it."

...

"I'm worried, Boomie. Blossom would never disappear without letting someone know," Bubbles cried, her hand clutching onto her betrothed's arm.

"Brick wouldn't either," Butch frowned as he looked around at the room, as if it would give him some clue to his brother's location.

"Perhaps they needed a little time together," Boomer supplied weakly, not believing his own excuse.

"They're too responsible to do something reckless like that," Buttercup frowned. "They're in trouble. I know it."

Bubbles swallowed, "You don't think it has anything to do with..." she trailed.

The brunette sister nodded grimly, "Blossom never told us this, but we know she's Lady B. She spies for the crown." She didn't voice the guilt she felt; after she dropped the bombshell that she was in family's way, Blossom disappeared soon after. She hoped her confession hadn't distracted her sister from her own safety. "And I'm afraid she's in trouble."

The brothers' eyebrows shot up at this statement. "Brick leads the foreign embassy. No one is supposed to know, but we do," the brunet confessed.

"Oh no," the petite blonde went white as everyone arrived at the same revelation. "They _are_ in danger."

"At least they've got to be together," the taller blond sighed. "That's-"

"Apologies, my lords, but this note just arrived," a footman bowed and left as quickly as he arrived.

"What does it say?" Buttercup whispered.

"_If you ever want to see the Duke and Duchess of York again _alive_, you'll bring 10,000 pounds to this location_," Butch read gravely before pulling out a map behind the ransom note. He swallowed.

"Looks like we have some siblings to save," Bubbles declared.

...

"Was it wise to send that ransom note?" Dexter glowered once he discovered what Mitchelson had done.

The brunet shrugged, "I figured we might as well get the most out of the situation. I could use 10,000 pounds." At the archduke's furious glare, he quickly amended, "I mean 5,000 each, right?"

"I have no intention of releasing those two, Mitchelson. Until you can get Wellington's letter like you promised, we're holding them. And once we get it, I'm disposing of those two thorns in my side once and for all," Dexter growled.

"Who said I would let them go?" Mitchelson asked breezily.

Dexter still wasn't mollified. "This wasn't part of the plan," he scowled. "You best-"

"My lords, there's a commotion below," a servant said breathlessly as he ran into the room. "You need to take care of it!"

...

"They should be here any minute now," Brick whispered impatiently.

"We paid that servant handsomely enough. I'm sure he did his job," his wife smiled reassuringly at him. Her countenance faltered. "Brick, if something happens to one of us..."

"Shh," he took her hands into his own. "Don't talk like that. You know I love you. And once we get out of this hellhole and save the country, I plan on spending the rest of our lives proving that to you."

"Me too," her voice croaked with emotion. She stepped on the tips of her toes to reach up and give him a soft, gentle kiss.

"I hope there's more where that came from," Brick whispered huskily as she reluctantly pulled away. Blossom flushed in response.

"Where's the racket down here? I don't hear anything," a muffled voice grumbled before coming into view. The two pulled away from each other and Blossom slinked into the shadows. Their captors hadn't known she'd waken up yet and she planned on using surprise to her advantage.

It was dark, but the redheads could see that Dexter and Mitchelson had come by themselves. They were confident that duke and duchess were no longer a threat.

They were wrong.

"York, what is the meaning of this?" Dexter frowned, crossing his arms as he glowered across the metal bars separating the two.

Brick shrugged lazily, "I just thought you'd want to know where your, or should I say my, precious letter is currently."

The archduke's malicious blue eyes narrowed, "Where is it?" he scowled.

"I think you need to come inside," the duke suggested, a smug smirk gracing his countenance.

Dexter laughed, "Do you think I'm an imbecile? I won't step foot in your holding cell."

"It's up to you," the stronger redhead said carelessly. "If you don't want it..."

"Oh, fine," he growled as he pulled out a heavy metal key and jammed it in the giant padlock. He swung the door open and came eye to eye with Brick. "Where. Is. It?" he demanded.

"Desperation never suited you, Dexter," Blossom said blithely before stepping out of her hiding place in the shadows and hitting three pressure points, sending the archduke limp to the floor. She grabbed the key from his grasp and quickly unlocked the cell, Brick following behind her.

Mitchelson sprung to action and pulled out a pistol, but Brick had him pinned to the wall before he could shoot. The weapon fell to the ground with a clink.

"Don't hurt me," the brunet wriggled desperately under the duke's grasp.

Brick glared. He had trusted this man with his life and been betrayed. He wanted nothing more than to slam his face into the cold, hard stone, but reason prevented him from indulging in his baser urges.

"You'll hang for what you've done, Mitch," Brick growled.

"Please, please. I'll do anything, just don't hurt me!" Mitch pleaded pathetically.

Brick smirked, "Good. There is one thing you'll do for us."

...

Almost over! :(

Anyways, my contest gets over in TWO WEEKS! And I still have no entries! That means you, yes YOU, could win! Write up some Reds and you could be the brand new owner of a fabulous Reds oneshot written by yours truly.

I want to thank all my reviewers. Y'all are the best, really. I appreciate the reviews, and I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I really like concise commentary and constructive criticism best. The long, detailed reviews that show that my readers really, really care are always the most meaningful to me. That's why I've decided that for all of my long, complicated, detailed and constructive reviews, I'll reply with a special sneak peek of the next chapter!

So if you leave me a thoughtful, considerate, long and wonderful review, I'll show my appreciation with a special preview of what's coming next.

Let me know what you think!


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